Through the Eyes of Another
by Lillianpost
Summary: Thorin decides it's time for Kili to follow Fili's example and take a wife, so he chooses a princess from the Grey Mountains for his nephew. He doesn't know though that she's blind and that her father ordered her to hide her disability and pretend to see. Four years after BOFA. Kili/OC, Thorin/OC
1. Chapter 1

**This is an experiment in writing that I've never tried before, so let me know if it works or not. None of my other stories are in the first-person, but I wanted to give this a try. I also wanted to try to write a story that's not full of clichés. That parody is still coming, but let me know if you spot any!**

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><p><strong>Chapter 1: Destitute and Desperate<strong>

I said I wouldn't do it, but no doubt mother will back him up. What nerve he had to march into my chambers as pleased as a pig in a mud pit to tell me that he finally found me a husband! Ha! As if gangs of them wandered lost in the woods waiting to be rescued. No, he sold me in exchange for a new trade route. To think that pack horses will drop piles of dung in my honor all the way to Erebor.

"We need this alliance, and you'll do as you're told," he ordered. "We've fallen on hard times, and this'll pull us out of it."

I told him that the _only_ reason _he_ needed this alliance was because he bankrupted us all trying to restore his kingdom to a glory it never deserved in the first place.

"Fallen implies an unavoidable accident," I reminded him, "but this is nothing of the kind. You leapt into this against all advice, so don't you _dare_ make me pay for your mistake!"

For a moment, I thought he might hit me. He never had before, but I know I pushed him to his limits at times. I don't know why. Maybe because I never liked him, or maybe because he never liked _me._

"You _will_ do this," he whispered harshly. "You _will_ serve _some_ purpose at last!"

Then he stormed out and slammed the door. I waited until his footsteps faded away and pulled out a satchel from under my bed.

"No, Areen," came a soft voice at the door, "you can't run away this time."

My mother, tall and lovely, glided to my bed as though on wheels. When I was young, I peeked under her skirts and was disappointed to find normal feet. I still don't know how she did it.

"This is an unexpected but most welcome stroke of fate, don't you think?" she asked as though the answer was obvious.

"No, I don't," I said bluntly, knowing full well that father didn't tell King Thorin or his nephew, Prince Kili, the truth about me. "What will they say when they see me? Why can't father fake it and send someone else?"

We looked down at my legs, one of which was shorter than the other. We didn't talk about my _other_ disability. Most of the time, they pretended it didn't exist.

"You have a good and kind heart, my dear," she said gently "which will win them over. Besides King Thorin was quite firm about it being the princess of the ruling house. I hear he's quite strict about observing protocol."

"Wonderful," I muttered, "just my allergy."

Mother continued as though she hadn't heard me. She did that a lot.

"When you get there, he'll ask questions only you can answer."

I puffed my chest out and put my hands on my hips.

"So Princess Areen," I said, trying to imitate his deep voice, "what is the annual yield of your kingdom?"

Mother rolled her eyes.

"Why nothing, Your Most Royal Highness Majesty," I replied sweetly, "but if I walk the streets tonight with a few of my friends, we might double the treasury by dawn."

"Areen!" mother shrieked. "You'll keep a civil tongue in your head!"

I pressed my lips together and clamped my jaw shut to keep everything I really wanted to say from leaping out of my mouth and setting my bedroom on fire. Then the cries of children rang in my head. So many hungry and barely hanging on, so many desperate petitions of my people.

Grumbling under my breath, I limped to the closet using my cane and pulled out my dresses. I laid them on the bed and then emptied my drawers. Mother watched in surprise while I packed in silence. I reached for a few precious mementos off my shelf and wrapped them carefully in frilly drawers that I despised and never wore.

"What are you doing?" mother asked.

"Packing, obviously," I said, "because I won't have my people starve if I can help it."

Mother made a sound of approval.

"As I said, a good and kind heart."

I snorted.

"One that you and father are taking full advantage of."

Then I looked back, my eyes steely.

"I'm taking her with me."

"Of course," mother said. "Of course she goes with you. You do so well here, but, of course, you'll need her to help you get around Erebor."

I bit my lip.

"I hear it's very large with many winding halls and corridors."

For the first time, I heard mother's voice thicken with tears.

"You'll manage brilliantly, as you always do, my brave, brave girl."

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><p><strong>Please send your thoughts!<strong>


	2. Chapter 2

**Thanks for all your encouragement! These chapters will be somewhat shorter than in my other stories until more action takes place and I figure out how to combine two points of view, but I'm having fun so far.**

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><p><strong>Chapter 2: Seeing the Truth<strong>

I didn't sleep well and had my nightmare, the one that always comes when I'm angry or upset. I have it often, and it always starts the same. It's a beautiful day and the sun is shining so brightly that it almost hurts my eyes. I'm playing with friends in the woods and practicing with my bow and blunted arrows. We shoot at leaves and shout that we hit _exactly_ the one we wanted among the thousands that blow gently in the breeze. Then rolling, black clouds cover the sun like a blanket. So much rain falls that it starts to wash away the outlines of the trees, the rocks, buildings, and people. The rain turns them into blurry smudges. I scream for help, but no one can hear me, and they turn and walk away. Groping through the blur, I find the wavy outline of my bedroom door and crawl on my bed. I find the edges of the sheets and pull them over me. I sleep badly until I wake up in the morning to remember once again that the blurry images are real and that only in my dreams can I see as I used to.

I groaned as I swung my legs over the side of the bed and reached for my cane, which is always on a hook by my bed. I hear the panting of my beloved dog and almost best friend in my now very small world.

"Will you please help me again, my friend?" I asked, hearing by the ever-present thump of her tail that she was waiting for me to wake up. I think it only right to ask her every day just the same. I don't want to _assume_ that she wants to lead me about all day long. Perhaps she'd rather chase after bones or dig holes somewhere in the fields beyond our keep. It's only after that dreadful fever struck our people when I was nine years old, leaving too many dead and me almost blind that the niceties became more important to me. Not that they shouldn't always have been, but the able-bodied seemed to overlook them in their self-reliance. Not me. I depend on people's goodwill now more than I ever wanted to, and I hate making them work even harder for my sake.

I also learned the hard way that people are only willing to give so much before they grumble and complain. However, an added measure of gratitude might stretch their compassion a bit further. I was also determined to do as much as I could for myself despite father's efforts. Always looking for an angle, he wanted our people to feel sorry for me. Perhaps then they'd think better of him. It's too sick to even laugh at and became this horrible game we played. He undermined every effort I made to be independent, and I did my best to make him look like a fool. My favorite time was when he cried tears that I'd never be able to walk. I think he wiped his handkerchief on an onion first, but I limped to my seat in front of that assembly with my head held high. Unfortunately, he found a way to save the situation. I should have known.

"My poor, poor child," he said, like I was spared by the mercy of Arda for some greater purpose. "Look how she struggles yet ever with a smile. We should all follow her noble example."

Aye, follow it and not complain when he raised their taxes to dig a mine that yielded nothing but low-grade pyrite ore. His own surveyors told him nothing was there, but he saw a glint of something and wouldn't be dissuaded. Many went hungry that winter. I tried to make light of it, but he didn't laugh when I said he was a fool for gold. I suppose my timing might have been off.

But now he has his revenge, and I'm being packed off like a sack of wheat to be the wife of some prince I'd never seen, but like all dwarves, had heard much of. The quest to reclaim Erebor has taken on a luster with embellishments bordering on the ridiculous. Personally, I thought that the dwarves who refused to go were the smart ones. Who needed Erebor when Ered Luin was doing so nicely? I went there once when I was six, and it was just beautiful, nestled in the softly rolling hills of the Blue Mountains. However, the Durins were known to be a rather dramatic bunch, so they just _had_ to face a dragon as if the occasional pack of warg riders wasn't enough.

I dressed quickly in a simple gown since we weren't leaving until tomorrow. I needed to say goodbye to the few friends who stood by me since that horrible time, and try to see my home as best I was able for the last time. I wanted to cry and felt the tears pricking my eyes, but I forced them back. There was no point in crying when it would only blind me completely. I want to see it as clearly as I can before I leave it forever.

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><p><strong>Please review and send your thoughts and suggestions.<strong>


	3. Chapter 3

**Thanks for your support new friends and old! **

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><p><strong>Chapter 3<strong>

Meals with my family were always strained. The silence was thick with unsaid words like black smoke billowing out of a furnace. One honest sentence could choke us. Father usually said nothing, just grunting when he approved of the food. Sometimes he'd ask my brother about his weapons training or his instruction in our various dyes and their properties. We were famous for producing quality fabric dyes and herbs, so our mountain home always looked and smelled wonderful.

I was grateful I could see for some of my childhood, but when the fever left it took most of my sight as well. Outside in the brightest sunlight I could see vivid colors and vague shapes, but in low light I was completely blind. Inside the keep mother kept my bedroom as brightly lit as she could, but the rest was shadows in the gloom. Still, I was grateful to have any sight at all. Imagine never seeing the color red? Or yellow? How could one explain what color the sky was or the changing colors of the seasons? How would one describe the play of light on color? Not to mention what people and animals and _life_ looked like. Our dyes are the most beautiful reds and blues and dark purples imaginable. Our green is that deep, emerald-green, but with a little yellow it looks like spring came early. Our pinks make the dawn blush with shame. All are color-fast and unfading. Who cares about shiny baubles after seeing great sails of richly colored cloth blowing from the thick branches of oak trees?

It was a wonderland to me, and I was always excited to see the dyers at work. The memory was as clear as ever, and I relived it often. I needed my memories, maybe more than most. They made life bearable when people treated me like I was deaf as well as blind. They said that my dying would have been better. I never thought so. I guess they meant well, with them clucking their tongues and all, but somehow it sounded different when father said it. Then I heard a noise.

I raised my head in surprise after father said something to me. No one moved.

"Pardon, sir?" I asked.

He smirked. I didn't need to see it to know he did.

"I said that King Thorin expects a _normal_ girl, so for Mahal's sake do your best to look the part."

I was sure that mother put her hand on his arm because she inhaled when he shook it off. My brother kept eating. We weren't close, he and I, not by a long stretch.

"A _normal_ girl?" I asked. I tried to ignore him, but I was mad and, honestly, hurt, and that made me madder. Father had despised me for years, but somehow his contempt still stung. I should have been thicker-skinned by now, but I wasn't. What's worse is that he knew it. I didn't know how but, by Mahal, he knew.

"Pray what _exactly_ did you tell King Thorin, father, because they'll see me clearly enough when we arrive?"

He chuckled, and I knew I was in trouble. I twisted the napkin on my lap as tightly as I could.

"I had a special saddle made for you, my dear, so that when we ride up, you'll be seated like a proper lady on a proper horse and not riding bareback on that ludicrous pony."

"Father …"

"And you'll have a new dress to hide your … deformity."

"Is that all?" I asked, I dropped the napkin—I think it fell to the floor—and clutched my hands in front of me. He chuckled under his breath. I held mine.

"Of course, your_ mongrel _won't go with you. Instead, I've arranged for two maids to go with us. You'll pretend that you twisted your ankle and be helped to your guest chambers. After all, your health is so _delicate._ After King Thorin and I sign the agreement, it won't matter what you _are_."

I wanted to shout, "So what am I?" I was still me, but all he saw was what I was missing. To him I was unnatural, and I needed to _pretend_ to be someone and something else. What you _are, _he said_._ I hadn't eaten anything, but I was full of his hateful words. All the things I knew he wanted me to say crowded behind my lips, but I swallowed them back. He was _not_ going to win this one. It was too important to me. I couldn't leave without those I depended on—my dog, Sky, and my pony, Summer.

"Well, father," I said, "there's _some_ sense in what you say," and I tapped my finger against my mouth, "but I don't think King Thorin will view your deception kindly. In fact, he may even consider it an insult to his honor."

Father blustered and huffed. He was sorely disappointed that the knife didn't stick in deeper, but I knew he had to consider what I said. I wanted to scream at him but instead flattered his ego. It took everything I had to do it.

"Besides, our dyes and herbs are the finest there are, and King Thorin will sign the trade agreement anyway, and"—and I said the one thing he had always wanted to hear from me—"it'll be to your advantage for him to feel sorry for me."

There, I said it. I took the dagger out of his hand and plunged it into my own heart. I could tell by the purr in his voice that he was more than pleased. He was always looking for some way to shame me for surviving, especially since I survived so well. He took it as an insult to his loins that he sired so weak a creature as to be born lame and then go blind. One time, a loyal, family servant pointed out that I must be strong indeed to have survived the fever when so many others died. He was cast into the street without back pay.

"Yes, yes," he said, no doubt grinning widely at his victory, "your poor, unfortunate state might work in our favor after all."

I waited as I always did—I don't know why because it never happened—for mother to cry in outrage at his heartless comments. Never, not once, did she stand up for me. I did't know what was worse, a cruel father or a weak mother. I stood as regally as I could and asked to take my leave. My father snapped his fingers for servants to attend me. Sky wasn't allowed at the table. Of _course_, she wasn't. Otherwise, I could get around the obstacle course he set for me without help. He often rearranged furniture just to make it hard.

"Mind she doesn't fall or bump into something and hurt her pretty face," he said with smug satisfaction. "You know how _helpless_ and _weak_ she is."

It took all I had to limp away and not bash him over the head with my cane.

"Come away, Lady Areen," said old Borin, who knew me when I was whole in a different way, "and don't mind him. We all think the world of you, and we know what your father is."

For once, I let him put his arms around my shoulders and lead me away. I hated myself for giving in but I was too afraid to travel without my guide dog and pony. Without them I'd be truly blind, and he knew it. Damn him!

"They're going to pity me or treat me like a freak," I whispered. "I'd rather they hate me as an equal."

Borin tightened his grip on my shoulders. I could feel his gnarled fingers lightly squeezing and patting.

"No, my lady, if they can look past what little you lack, they'll see all you have to give."

I could feel them, but he ignored the tears trickling down my cheeks.

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><p><strong>OK, folks, what do you think? Works, doesn't work? I wanted to portray what disabled people can often feel as well as the cruelty parents can inflict when disappointed by their children-even if the reason isn't their fault. So let me know your thoughts, and please review! On a personal note, I had some something similar happen once after facial surgery where some pitied me and others hid their children's faces from me. A family member suggested hiding myself until I was healed. Instead, I walked out with a friend into a shopping center covered in bandages and watched people gasp, turn away, or stare. A real learning experience...<strong>


	4. Chapter 4

**This is getting interesting. Do I do past tense, present tense? So much to learn, but it's fun. I hope you all are staying with it. As always suggestions are welcome. **

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><p><strong>Chapter 4<strong>

After such a humiliation, I couldn't wait to go outside. I harnessed Sky, and she led me out the gates of my mountain home to the market down in the valley. I felt the warm sun on my face and enjoyed the crunch of dirt and rocks under my boots after I left the granite-paved roadway from the gate. I heard the sounds of life all around me from birds singing to attract a mate to the skitter of animals foraging for nuts and acorns in the trees and on the forest floor.

"How're ya doing, girl? Tired of being cooped up in the mountain?"

Sky seemed as excited as me to leave the keep. Inside it seemed like the mountain itself was pressing down on us, trying to squeeze us out like pastry from a tube. Perhaps it was because there was so much unhappiness there that the healthy, old mountain wanted to spew us out. Mother doesn't like me to talk this way, but it's true. I reached the outskirts of the market where men, dwarves, and a few elves came to spent their coin—hopefully. We put out our best effort and made like we were carefree with wealth to spare. It wasn't good business to look poor.

Everyone had hidden their fear under bright banners that I could dimly make out and stalls full of food—some their last bakings of bread and last kegs of ale. However, this time, relief had come. King Thorin paid a generous amount for our sample shipment of goods, but Lord Torfrin, father's steward, told him that King Thorin had in fact paid _less_. Our nobles in charge of the treasury were _terrible _at accounting in the best sense. I didn't know how long they'd been diverting funds to feed and clothe our people, but as soon as I found out, I begged to help. We came up with a system that worked well for everyone. Well, everyone except father, but no one felt any guilt on his behalf. We just made sure that he was satisfied with having more than anyone else. He just never realized how _much_ more he could have had. I called those who signed on the Secret Servants, and Lord Torfrin made us all swear to keep our secret unto death. They were my true family. Council members quietly slipped me a pouch filled with gold coins at the market when they made their farewells. I sighed happily and hugged them all. Then I took a deep breath.

It's said that when one sense fails, the others rally around their fallen comrade. That was certainly true of me. Ever since my sight faltered, my senses of smell, hearing, taste, and touch became much more sensitive, and things I took for granted became essential.

Take air, for example. Most people walk through it without thinking, but not me. Instead, it's another ally in helping me navigate my world. I always thank it because it sends me the most delicious scents and interesting sounds. Sometimes the smells are so thick I can almost taste them. Of course, that's not handy when I'm around the stables, but it's quite nice otherwise.

As always, the market smelled wonderful with scents of exotic spices that grow in abundance in our woods and meadows and on the sides of the mountains at Ered Mithrin. We might not be miners with precious gems—whatever mines there used to be were already played out—but King Thorin had plenty of those anyway. What he wanted instead was a steady supply of high-quality medicinal herbs and savory spices as well as our incomparable dyes. So he'll get those and me in the bargain to seal the agreement. Just what every girl dreams of.

With Sky's help, I moved easily around the stalls, and my good friend, Sella, beckoned me over to sample another one of her experiments. She was a wonderful baker as long as she used a recipe, but she was determined to distinguish herself with something unique. Feverishly working at all hours, she'd been testing strange concoctions for years. Unfortunately, her taste buds gave up under the strain a long time ago. I smelled the very unpleasant combination of raspberries and onions and stifled a gag.

"What do you think, Areen?" she asked. Even though I was a princess, I couldn't bear to have my friends use the title. Too much separated me from them already.

I sampled a morsel, already sure it was going to be terrible.

"Raspberries and onion, don't mix," I said. I didn't need to see her face to know she was disappointed. "Try raspberries with lemon, and onions with sage."

Her breath made an eager sound. Then she sighed.

"But who will help me when you're gone? I haven't found my secret recipe yet."

I fished in my velvet bag and pulled out a long list. I wasn't about to leave her in the lurch because father had practically banished me.

"What's this?" she asked.

I could hear from the little pops her lips made while she read that she was excited. Suddenly, she hugged me.

"Oh, Areen," she cried against my cheek, "thank you! I was so worried I'd never remember them all."

I had a scribe write down as many flavor combinations as I could come up with. Some were rather exotic, but perhaps one would be her secret recipe. She's wanted that ever since she learned how to use a rolling-pin.

"You deserve it, Sella," I said. "You're my friend. I … wish I didn't have to go."

She put my hand on her face and smiled widely.

"We're going to keep in touch with you somehow, Areen. We won't abandon you."

I was so surprised that tears sprang into my eyes before I could stop them.

"Thank you, Sella," I blubbered. "That means the world to me." She patted my shoulder, and we hugged again. I pressed two gold coins in her hand, and she slipped them into her pocket. We said nothing lest one of father's guards take notice, but she squeezed my hand to show her gratitude.

"All will be well," she whispered. "You'll see." Then she gave me an apple tart spiced with cinnamon and nutmeg.

"I'll miss these."

"What? Did I add too much nutmeg?"

As hard as I try to keep up a front to father, I couldn't be anything but honest with my friends.

"The Durins scare me," I muttered, "and I don't know what to do. What if they reject me? Where could I go? I heard father say that he's leaving me there whether they want me or not."

She huffed, and I could tell by the way she slammed her platters down as she rearranged them in her stall that she was angry.

"Like I said Areen, we have a plan. Arse of a lord, your father is, and we all think so. Not that your blockhead of a brother is any better."

I looked around. Even I could spy the bright red robes of father's guards. They were loyal to him because he paid them. I never had much patience for court intrigue, but we couldn't get away from it. Most of the lords and council members tried to make up for father's incompetence—and that was putting it nicely—while the warriors and guards on his payroll tried to find us out. It was a dangerous game but worth playing to keep our people together.

"Hush, Sella! I don't want to get you in trouble."

"As if we don't know how much all of you do for us!" she replied with a harsh whisper. "The Durins may be scary, but I hear they take good care of their people. Maybe if you become one of them, you can do the same for us. Then no one will have to take these risks."

That thought hadn't occurred to me, and I straightened up.

"I'll get them to accept me, I swear. Then I can send all the aid you need."

"You'll swear what?" I heard a voice say behind me. The lovely scents of pine, cinnamon, and sweet pipeweed flooded my nose, but before I could turn around, two pairs of arms grabbed me.

"Oh, Areen! I can't believe today is your last day with us! I'm _so_ mad at your father!"

My friend Mebla hugged me around the waist from behind while her twin brother Tildar had me by my shoulders.

"Give her air to breathe, you two!" came a deeper voice, filled with amusement.

"Feron!"

He stepped forward to muss my hair. Two years older than the rest of us, he and his brother and sister were the children of a beloved noble named Lord Vinn. A kinder heart never lived.

"I couldn't let you leave without saying goodbye!" he said good-naturedly.

The three of them were my closest friends since we were small, and my going blind didn't change a thing. Before I lost my sight, we used to hide dung under pine needles for father's guards to step in and do other things that naturally curious and bored children were wont to do. We were as thick as thieves, and that was apt since they were also Secret Servants.

"Did you hand out all of yours?" I asked. They hummed their answers. I added more into their pouches since I was sure that father's guards were watching me more closely today.

"I already got mine," Sella said.

No one said anything then, but I could tell something was going on.

"What?" I asked peevishly. I never liked being left out.

"Come with me," Feron said, and he led me away. I felt the crackle of the dried pine needles underfoot and the scent of both young and old trees. I heard the creak of the branches in the slight breeze.

"Why did you bring me to the woods?"

He sighed and put his hands on my shoulders. Sky sat on her haunches. She was skittish with most, but my friends had her complete trust.

"Areen, we've been together for almost all our lives," he said, "and we pledged long ago that we'd take care of each other no matter what happened."

"We were children then," I interrupted.

He gave me a little shake.

"Areen," he said more firmly, "I asked and father gave me his blessing to marry you if you wish and take you away to our kin in the Iron Hills. Mebla and Tildar would come with us. We're all agreed. We can leave tonight if you wish. Father has everything ready."

I knew they had a plan, but I never expected this.

"Feron," I said, "you can't be serious! I can't expect you all to leave everything behind for _me._"

He said nothing, but I felt his demeanor change. It got softer somehow, and the grip of his hands lessened, his fingers almost caressing my shoulders. Then I felt his thumb gently brush my lips.

"I won't stand by and watch you be sold off."

I reached up, and he put my hand on his face.

"But, Feron, we're not lovers. We don't love each other _that_ way, and …"

Suddenly, I felt his lips on mine. They felt warm, comforting, and even a little tingly to be honest.

"We could be, Areen," he whispered as he put his forehead to mine. "It wouldn't take much for me to feel that for you."

He held me in his arms, and I had to admit it felt nice. But then I remembered Sella's words, and I gently pushed away.

"Sella told me that if I became a Durin I could send aid to our people. They need that more than I need to get away. Feron, what if Mahal arranged this to save us?"

He snorted angrily.

"I don't think _anyone_, even our Creator, expects you to sell yourself!"

"But so many put their lives in danger to help our people. What if all that could stop? What if I could send aid without father's leave? We could all be free!"

I looked up, and his thumb and forefinger caressed my chin.

"I understand your reasoning," he said softly, "and I'll let you go on one condition. If the agreement's signed, I will come with the first shipment. That should be about two months after you arrive. If you're unhappy there, I'll steal you away, and we'll head for the Iron Hills. Then I'll send word, and the others will join us."

My thoughts were such a jumble, I didn't know what to think.

"Areen?" he asked softly. "I won't let you go without your promising me."

He cupped my face with his hands and kissed me again so tenderly that I wanted to cry. I had always admired him and even had a child's crush on him, but I didn't know what I felt now.

"I promise, Feron," I said at last. "I promise."

He pulled me to him and held me close. I remembered him as a light-hearted dwarfling with bright, red hair and light green eyes, but that was years ago, and the dwarf who held me now felt nothing like the soft and chubby child leading us through mud puddles.

"It will be well, Areen," he said. "If you find happiness there, I'll be satisfied, but if not, you know my mind."

We walked back out of the woods to find Lord Vinn and the twins waiting for us.

"You told her?" he asked.

"Aye, but she's going to Erebor first."

Lord Vinn took my hand between his own.

"You're like another daughter to me, lass, and I'll have your reasons before you refuse Feron."

He lowered his voice because a gaggle of father's guards walked by mumbling about rooting out traitors.

"If the Durins accept me, uncle, I can see to our people's needs for as long as I live, and we wouldn't have to hide anymore. One day one of us _will_ get caught, and you know what'll happen then."

He sighed and stroked his white beard.

"Aye, lass, I honor your reasons, but I agree with Feron that we won't allow you to be mistreated. I don't care if High and Mighty Thorin Oakenshield himself comes here. We won't let him keep you unless we were sure you'd be happy with him and his kin. They're rich, to be sure, but that's nothing without love and respect."

My friends all "ayed" loudly, and I reached out to touch their faces. I felt tears on Mebla's cheeks, and a frown on Tildar's. Both Uncle Vinn and Feron kissed my palm. Feron's kiss lingered.

"What goes on here?"

One of father's fellow gluttons joined our little gathering. Lord Riven was roundly disliked, almost as much as father, and that was saying something. Besides, his breath was always terrible.

"I'm just saying my good byes, my lord," I said sadly. The others said nothing.

He grabbed my arm, and Sky growled. I thought I heard one from Feron as well.

"You father wants you back in the keep. You have much to do to get ready."

The others protested, but I waved them back.

"Aye," I replied. "I have to prepare for them."

Uncle Vinn snorted.

"No, lass," he said with a conviction that surprised me, "they have to prepare for _you_."

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><p><strong>Please review!<strong>


	5. Chapter 5

**Thank you all for your lovely responses and encouragement! Tables are turning, and things aren't what they seem, so read on and please review!**

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><p><strong>Chapter 5<strong>

I returned to the mountain in a much different mood than I left. I didn't even get a chance to say good-bye to others whom I might never see again, and I was angry. Mother met me at the gate and _suggested_ that we finish packing and get my supplies ready. I thought I already packed all I had, but she insisted that there was more, and walked with me to my room. Then she dismissed the servants and closed the door.

"Sit down, Areen," she said in that gentle way of hers that sometimes grated on my nerves.

"Mother, I really think .…"

"I _said_ sit _down._"

Her words had a bite. She had never, and I mean _never,_ talked like that before. I obeyed reflexively.

"We need to talk before you leave," she said, her tone completely different from her normal self. It was both stern and strong. Even when I could see, her face was always soft and serene—almost dim at times in my opinion. Now I imagined her face sharp and more intelligent than I had ever guessed. I was completely taken aback and could only sit up straight and put my hands in my lap.

"There are a few things you need to know before you leave, my daughter," she said, "and now is the time to tell you. I'm extremely proud of your generous nature and how you've persevered, but you still have much to learn to be a princess of the realm—any realm."

I opened my mouth to speak, but she made a noise, and I promptly clapped it shut.

"The first thing you need to learn is how to judge character and that people are shades of gray—not black and white as you see them. For example, who do you think it is who started the Secret Servants, as you so call us?"

A series of gags and stutters came out of my mouth before I finally stammered to a halt. A single sentence upended my entire world. I couldn't see her, but I was sure she was smiling to see my shock.

"How? How did you?"

She laughed quietly.

"Our realm may be new in comparison to others and small since we've only been here for a few generations, but I am queen nonetheless, and I will do my best to see to the needs of _my_ people."

I couldn't understand.

"But all those who went hungry, mother? All those petitions that went unanswered?"

She sighed sadly, and it sounded like the sigh of someone much older.

"I am queen, not king, and I did my best to help, but the needs were too great, so I slowly tested others in power until I could gather enough I trusted to help put my plans in place. You never knew to protect both of us."

I put my hands over my face. It was all too much.

"Why didn't you tell me? I kept everyone else's secret? Why not yours? It would have made all the difference!"

She hummed quietly.

"In our relationship you mean? Did I need to do great deeds for you to love and respect me? I loved _you_ when _you_ were weak and helpless. I also loved you when you were difficult to love. If you recall, you didn't handle your blindness so well at first, and I still bear scars from the glasses and plates you threw during your _frequent_ tantrums. I understood why, of course, and didn't fault you for it. You were hurting, and I understand suffering."

"But what about father and what he said to me? You didn't defend me once! Not _once!_"

She sat silently for a long while.

"Did you ever wonder why he never hit _you,_ Areen? You know he wanted to, didn't you?"

I didn't understand what she meant, and I stared blankly at her indistinct outline. Then I knew.

"Oh Mahal, mother! Oh, you didn't! Please tell me you didn't!"

I stood and reached out my hands for her. I couldn't stand to hear any more. She took me into her arms, and I sobbed my apologies until I felt my throat go dry. She rocked me slowly and stroked my hair. I never knew her until that moment. Her quietness and serenity hid a suffering that I couldn't begin to understand. She stood in front of me more times than I could count and diverted what should have come to me. I was bitterly ashamed for all the times I baited my father and gloried in his fury**,** never knowing he would take it out on her. At that moment, I hated myself.

"I thought myself so right to make him mad. I'll never forgive myself, never. How could he?"

She hushed me gently.

"I already have so you must. You didn't know, and as much as you misjudged me, you're right about your father."

"Was he always like he is now?"

"No," she said quietly. "He was intense and passionate but also full of hopes and dreams, much like you are now."

I almost gagged at the comparison. I felt sick, but I had to know what happened. She tried to tell me, but her voice choked, and I begged her to stop. I couldn't inflict any more pain on her, but she patted my hand.

"He had many troubles in his life and little by little lost faith, lost hope, and grew bitter and angry," she said softly. "He could have handled it differently, but our choices make or unmake our character. His choices made him who he is now. Among other things, he suffered, I lost many babes before your brother and you. He mourned every one. He cursed Mahal in his pain and hardened his heart. Even your births did little to sway him by that time, and we all paid the price. You must make different choices, Areen."

I shook my head angrily. If there was one thing I knew, I knew I was never, NEVER going to be like him.

"Don't be so sure," she replied after seeing my face. "He said the same thing about _his_ father."

My head dropped.

"I've been so blind." I didn't need to explain myself.

"Aye," she replied, "that's why we needed this talk."

I felt like I had aged a hundred years, but I sensed that mother felt invigorated to finally let go of the burden she'd carried so long. I knelt at her knees, bowed my head, and gave her the respect and honor she had always deserved.

"I know, sweetheart, I know" she said gently, "but I thank Mahal that we understand each other at last."

"What else is there, mother? I have so much to learn."

"And that is a lesson in itself. We live a dangerous life, Areen. Not only in body but also in spirit. We lie and cheat to meet the needs of our people. However, never forget that those who lie and deceive for good reasons can also do so for bad."

Suddenly, I was afraid.

"Do you suspect one of the Secret Servants?" I asked, not wanting to know that answer.

"No," she said, and she patted my drooping shoulders, "but it's an ever-present danger. Our motives aren't always pure, so we must always sift our hearts. I know you love our people, but wasn't some of your service to spite your father? Hmmm?"

She was right and didn't have to say so.

"We _must_ know ourselves. That's one reason why I'm happy you're going to Erebor."

Now _that_ I didn't understand.

"What has Erebor to do with this, mother? I should stay here and help. I'm needed here!"

She sat quietly, and I could tell that she was choosing her next words carefully.

"Erebor has what you need, Areen, or more to the point, Thorin Oakenshield has what you need."

"Mother, what, how could, he is a…?" I cast around for something to say, but nothing coherent came to mind.

"He's a king who fought gold sickness and won, Areen. He's faced greater losses than anyone could ever know and triumphed over them. You need to learn from him, sweetheart, you need to learn what he and his kin have learned."

That made no sense to me, and I crossed my arms over my chest.

"So does that mean I need to _marry_ Prince Kili to _learn_ this great lesson? Perhaps I should marry King Thorin instead!"

Mother didn't say anything, and into the silence entered all kinds of wild thoughts. Suddenly, I felt that there was much more going on and had been going on without my knowing it. My temper flared, but I took a deep breath and calmed myself. I was always one to speak my mind, but If lesson one was self-control, I might as well learn it now. I could tell by the pleased sound she made that she knew what I had done.

"Feron proposed, you know," I said. "He said he'd take me to the Iron Hills tonight. Did you know of this?"

Her sudden intake of breath told me otherwise.

"He's an honorable dwarf," she said slowly. "What did you say?"

I could tell that the answer was important to her.

"I said that I would go to Erebor first. He'll come with the first shipment should the agreement be signed, and if I'm unhappy there, he'll take me away with him to his kin."

"Does he love you, Areen? If he does there will be no other for him. You know that is the way of our kind."

I shook my head,

"No, he hasn't bonded himself to me yet, but he said that he would if I gave him the encouragement."

Then a thought came to me.

"It's also the way of our kind for dwarves to cherish and protect their women. How does that explain father?"

Her answer was simple.

"Even the strongest dwarrow can go mad."

Threads of random thoughts started weaving together, but they couldn't be right, they just couldn't be.

"Mother," I asked with great hesitation because I hoped with all my might I was wrong, "are you wanting me to go to Erebor so I can find a way to heal father? Is that what this is all about, that King Thorin will teach me how to help him? Surely, that's impossible!"

She said nothing, and I voiced another one of the thousand thoughts that swirled in my mind.

"Am I to marry Prince Kili so we can come here and rule? Is _that_ was this is about?"

She didn't answer.

"Mother, I need something! Give me something so that when I go there I'll know what to look for, what to do!"

She stepped forward and put her hands on my shoulders. I could tell by her grip that her next words would be important.

"King Thorin is a dwarf of honor. When you get there, remember what you told your father."

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><p><strong>New layers that I hope will add to the story. Please review!<strong>


	6. Chapter 6

**Here's an interval chapter that prepares for her arrival. I thought I'd get her to Erebor in this chapter, but it turns out that she needed to find out a few things and get a few things off her chest first. Stubborn lass. Always telling me what to do! **

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><p><strong>Chapter 6<strong>

I got ready in a daze. Mother packed new gowns and other clothes, but I didn't care about style. What I care about is texture and fit. I hate stiff fabrics and tight clothes because I feel like I can't breathe. She said I looked best in jewel tones, but that doesn't matter to me since I don't know what I look like anymore. I know that the pimples of my youth are gone save a small pockmark or two on my chin. I also think I have a mole near the corner of my mouth since I feel a small bump there when I wash my face, but I'm not sure. My fingers are not as sensitive when I touch myself. Familiarity robs them of sensation I guess.

I also know that I'm not too short nor too tall judging from where I hear others' voices. Feron is taller than me, and so is mother, but I seem to fit in well enough with my friends. The only problem with having one leg shorter—other than the obvious—is that my body twists to accommodate the angle. By the end of the day, my muscles and joints ache. Sometimes the pain is so bad that I shake like a leaf in the wind. Mother usually gives me wine to ease the pain and then sends in a maid to work out the knots and cramps. I like red wine best.

I packed the last of my memories and tokens from friends. Feron gave me an engraved bracelet with a small heart-shaped bell that jingled softly. It was too rich a gift, but he insisted. I could smell that it was made of gold. Funny how metals have different smells just like they have different properties of other kinds. Copper smells tangy and iron earthy. Gold smells lightly fragrant. That must sound strange, but it's true. Perhaps everyone can smell metals but never try. I hadn't smelled gold in a long time.

Mother brought in a pouch.

"I can't take anything else, mother," I said after I felt the leather bag. "The pack ponies will fall over as it is."

"Just one more thing, sweetheart. You need to look like the princess you are."

I loosened the laces and reached in to feel mother's diamond and sapphire necklace and earrings. I knew their pattern by heart because when I was little, I used to sneak into her room and peek into her jewel box. They were the best of the few things she had from her family and were generations old. Once she let me wear the necklace, and I paraded around like a queen until father saw me. I ran crying back to mother's chambers and never wore it again. It was beautiful though with an elegance and symmetry that made it a piece of master craft. It had a chain of interlocking sapphires and diamonds leading to a small, diamond flower with a heart-shaped sapphire suspended below. The earrings were diamond flowers with sapphire centers.

"Mother, you can't!" I cried. "It's the only thing you have left that shows what you are!"

She took my hand, put it on her face, and shook her head.

"A piece of jewelry does not make a person, nor will this necklace make you. I have no need of it here, but it may help you at Erebor."

I was puzzled.

"What difference would a necklace make?" I asked.

She hummed.

"You'll find out soon enough."

Mother hugged and kissed me, and her tears wet my cheeks. Father introduced me to two gruff and unfriendly maids who were to attend me. The journey was perhaps a week, and I feared that I'd have no support at all. Father said he picked them for their reliability, but my clever mother told me that she had put them in his way.

"They will help you, Areen, as best they can," she whispered. "They may seem at times to follow your father's orders, but have no fear. They will protect you."

Summer seemed eager to go. I didn't ride her as often as I used to, and she'd grown fat. She knelt as she was trained to by Feron, and I easily found my way on. I rode bareback in a split skirt. Father grumbled once again about it being undignified, but he knew that I rode more safely when feeling Summer's movements. He said though that I had to use the saddle he packed for when we were close to Erebor. I imagined myself falling on my rump in front of King Thorin, but then I remembered that he wouldn't come out to see such undistinguished guests. So a guard will watch me land on my rear instead.

Sky whined in cart behind me until father grew so annoyed that he let her pad beside me. I already knew the trip was going to be horrible since we hadn't left the stables yet, and he was already yelling. I took a deep breath and bit my tongue. As we rode out on the warm, spring day, I heard the murmur of voices and the shifting of feet. The noise and vibrations grew louder, and I smelled the scents of the market.

"Best wishes, Princess Areen," Mebla and Tildar called out. "We'll miss you!" Shouts and farewells followed from market vendors and my true family. Their encouragement and love were heartening but heartbreaking at the same time. How was I to manage without them? Then a heard one voice lower than the others as I rode by.

"I'm coming soon, Areen. I'll be ready if you are."

I nodded with a tremulous smile, and we passed through the outer gate. Father rode ahead with his minister of state, a dwarf whose true allegiance was hidden. Mother told me as best she could who was trustworthy and who wasn't, but Lord Boron was an unknown.

"Be wary of him, Areen," she had said. "He reveals nothing and may be dangerous. He's cleverer than he lets on."

The sounds changed after we left the Grey Mountains and headed into the low foothills. No more voices save our own, and all sounds of civilization stopped. I felt so lonely. All I heard was the sound of wind in the trees, the cries of raptors after their prey, the plodding of the ponies, and the panting of Sky who trotted by my ankle.

I'd never been so far from home before, and I felt it like slender strings stretching. Each step, each bend and dip pulled them tighter. Would they break under the strain or would they yank me back to my family and friends?

I screwed my eyes shut against Feron's last tender request. Before we walked back to the others, he let me, no, asked me to "see" his face for the last time.

Even at close range, I can't make out features, but I can see through touch. I'd never done it with an acquaintance, let alone a stranger, but Feron took my hands and put them on his face.

"I want you to see me before you go, Areen," he said softly. "I want you to see who stands before you now. It's not only my voice that's changed, and I want you to take me seriously now."

I tried to pull away, but he held my hands to his face and nodded.

"Please," he said.

I slid my hands up to his hairline and felt thick, coarse hair like a horse's tail.

"What color is it now?"

"Dark red," he said. It used to be the color of carrots.

Then I felt his broad forehead and traced the few lines there. I touched and tapped my finger tips on his temples and ran my fingers lightly over his eyes. He sighed softly.

"Are they still green?"

"Aye," he said, "but now they're darker, more like malachite."

I felt his large, thick nose and flaring nostrils. He always did have a big nose, and that hadn't changed, but much else had. His face was harder, stronger, and I ran my fingers down his cheeks and met dimples. He had the face of a dwarrow, not the lad I remembered from just a few years ago.

"My, Feron," I said, "our women folk must swoon."

Then I thought of something I hadn't in many years.

"Do _I_ look so different now?"

I felt him grin and ran my hands over his beard. I had felt it when he kissed me, but it was fuller now and not the straggly, patchy beard I felt some years ago. I hesitated to touch his lips, but he brought one hand there and kissed each fingertip slowly. His mustache tickled.

"One word, Areen," he had said, "One word, and I'll let my heart run free."

I brought myself back and shook my head to still the thoughts that threatened to swallow me whole. It did no good to dwell on what had happened since what was to come was in front of me. I only hoped the Durins would be kind. For two months at least. Then I would have to decide.

Lord Boron and father talked at the head of the column about the trade agreement and how to best present me. If I were allowed to be myself, King Thorin might go easy on our people out of pity. Father favored that notion, of course. However, Lord Boron said instead that King Thorin might think us weak and drive a harder bargain. I stopped listening after an hour and tried to stem the tears running down my face. I didn't want to go to Erebor despite mother's words, and I already felt depressed after only half a day on the road. I tried to listen to the other dwarves, the soldiers and servants instead. They all talked about the wealth of Erebor and finally seeing it at last. I heard the awe in their voices as they speculated about the size and grandeur of it all. Their conversation didn't improve my mood.

"We have many more miles to travel, my lady," one of the maids whispered after she pulled her pony alongside mine, "pay no mind."

"Aye," whispered the other one, "Don't listen to their talk, my lady. We'll not abandon you."

I nodded wordlessly and decided to take in my surroundings. I saw smudges of green and a grayish pink haze. Shapes moved in front of me with a swaying rhythm. I smelled fresh pine and wildflowers growing along the trail. Then I heard a horse snort and smelled fresh dung. Thankfully, Summer sidestepped the pile I knew was there. I was going to smell dung all the way to Erebor like I predicted, although I didn't feel honored in the least.

Since I rode astride for most of the day, my pain wasn't so bad, and I was able to rest comfortably. Father brought feather beds for himself and Lord Boron, but I had to make do with straw stuffed into a sack. It worked well enough if a bit prickly. We ate cheese, bread, and fruit. One of the maids cooked some stew over the fire. The clatter of pewter plates and clank of mugs alerted me to supper. I heard Sky padding up, and I hugged her hard.

"Come here, Areen," father ordered. She led me over, and I curtsied clumsily.

"Just what I told you, Boron," he said angrily. "We must come up with a reason."

I felt Lord Boron's eyes on me, and they didn't feel like Feron's eyes. His eyes made me feel warm and safe, but Lord Boron's eyes were hard and assessing, and I felt like I had stepped into a cold wind.

"My lord," he said calmly, "there's only one thing to do, but it can't be done until we're close to Erebor, perhaps as we skirt around the mountain, since we're coming from the north. There are few sentries or guards there."

I wanted to ask what they were talking about, but I didn't dare. Something told me not to speak. Perhaps it was my maids subtly clearing their throats. Their breathing told me that they knew what my father and Lord Boron were referring to and that it wasn't good.

Father's decision made, he changed the subject and ate heartily. I could scarcely eat anything until he shoved a bowl into my hands.

"You must keep your figure to attract Prince Kili," he said. Some of his guards laughed lewdly, and I felt my cheeks flush. I knew that I was already plump from too much eating in the market place. Everyone wanted me to sample and test their goods, and who was I to refuse?

"What were they talking about?" I asked Kitra. The other one, her sister, was named Otha.

They didn't say anything, but I prodded. Otha took a deep breath and put her hand on my arm.

"Prepare yourself, my lady," she said. "They want your limp to look like an accident, so they're planning to sprain or break your ankle before we reach Erebor."

I gasped. Who wouldn't? It was too horrifying, but it made sense in a twisted sort of way.

"So they decided to pass me off as normal. What else? How are they going to account for my blindness?"

Kitra answered.

"Sky won't be allowed inside to lead you around. Instead, you'll probably be pushed by one of us in a wheeled chair, and we are to describe Erebor for you as we go so you can pretend you see it."

I scoffed and shook my head.

"Then they think the Durins are simple indeed. Surely they'll see through this. Mahal! I can't even look anyone in the eye!"

"You're going to be shy."

I dropped my head into my hands. This was preposterous, not to mention completely dishonorable. I wouldn't stand for it and told them so.

"My lady," Otha said sadly, "Sky and Summer will have their throats slit otherwise."

The look on my face told them everything I felt. I never was good at hiding anything, and now I had to hide everything.

"Oh!"

I burst into great, heaving sobs, but Kitra shook my arm.

"You mustn't act like you know, my lady! Remember, their lives depend on it."

Lord Boron suddenly called from across the campsite.

"Princess Areen, you are upset? May I know the cause?"

His voice was neutral, but I heard the steel behind it. If I could practice on Lord Boron, perhaps I could deceive the mighty Thorin Oakenshield. I felt bad about lying to him but no guilt whatsoever about Lord Boron.

"My apologies, my lord," I said while wiping my eyes, "but I was grieved over my maids' loss of their mother. I can't imagine losing mine in so short a time. They weren't even able to say good-bye."

A squeeze on my wrist told me that I was convincing. Father wouldn't stand for it.

"Do not distress her again," he commanded. "I'll not have her red-eyed and puffy when she meets the Durins. She's deformed enough as it is."

Another squeeze kept my temper in check, but I swore then that he'd pay for everything thing he'd put me and my people through to the last whimper of pain and hunger. Every last one.

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><p><strong>Things are moving forward, and we'll see how well she does. In the meantime, please review!<strong>


	7. Chapter 7

**Thank you friends for your reviews, and welcome new readers! **

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><p><strong>Chapter 7<strong>

We traveled for some days before the terrain changed, and I smelled something foul and dank on the air. It smelled like an over-used latrine or a thousand babies having a go. Then again, it could just be that I was downwind from father and Lord Boron. But I was wrong. Otha told me that we were within stench of Mirkwood. I wondered why good smells dissipate quickly but a stink travels for miles. Any idea I had of the elves being a fair and pure race died on the spot. No nobility could live in a continual waft of decay. I no longer wondered why King Thranduil and his people didn't help the dwarves of Erebor. Maybe they couldn't extricate themselves from the sludge in time. I giggled a little at the thought. I imagined King Thanduil in all his blond glory wading through sewage to call his people to arms. That cheered me for a moment. Then my thoughts returned to my impending _accident._ It was hard for them not to. Each morning Otha and Kitra listened in and came back with a report. Each time they came back, I could breathe again. "Not today."

What's worse? Getting hurt or _knowing_ you're going to get hurt? Huh, maybe the worst is knowing that someone _wants_ to hurt you. I couldn't keep biting my nails to the quick while I waited until after they were done eavesdropping. No, I decided to take my ankle into my own hands. If anyone was to sprain it, it would be me.

"Where can we do this?" I asked my trusty maids with a confidence I certainly didn't feel. They were horrified, of course, but understood.

"There's a stand of trees coming up on the horizon," Otha said in a low voice. "Just behind is Erebor. I'm sure they'll try something there, so we need to be ready."

Kitra seconded. I couldn't hide my devastation at having to hurt myself to protect myself. Who should be in that position? Kitra and Otha murmured kind words, but they flicked away like pebbles kicked by our ponies' feet. Nothing they said could make up for what was coming. Soon enough we rode up the smudge.

"I see twisted tree roots," Kitra whispered. "I'm very sorry, my lady."

I dropped my head and took a deep breath.

"I'm ready."

Before Sky could reach me, Otha led me over the roots, and I stuck my boot under one and wrenched my ankle as hard as I could. Pain shot up my calf, and I screamed. Lord Boron came over immediately, but father lingered behind.

"What has happened, princess?" he asked with great, and I was sure, feigned concern.

He played the game well, pitching his voice at just the right tone and volume to play the warm and worried uncle figure, but I wasn't fooled. Voices have both overtones and undertones. Lord Boron had mastered the overtone, but I heard the calculation underneath. A blessing of blindness, and I honed it. I spent years learning how to read voices. I'm no expert, not at all, but he had spent too much time around father and had gotten lazy. Now Lord Vinn was a pleasure to listen to. His sincerity was true to the last bass note like a thick slice of toasted bread dripping with honey. I never tired of listening to him. He was my true uncle in spirit if not in blood. Lord Boron's voice was like old cooking oil in comparison. Besides, he smoked like a furnace, and his brand of pipe weed burned my nose.

I tried to pull my boot out from under the root, but it stuck, and I hissed with pain.

"Allow me," he said, and he waved Otha aside.

"Stupid maid!" he said sharply. "I should dismiss you for your carelessness!"

Not likely. They might need her "carelessness" for a few more accidents. She groveled appropriately and back away. I bit my tongue while he carefully pulled my boot from under the root. I could feel my ankle getting spongy and thick.

"May I?" he asked while tapping my boot.

"Aye," I replied while thinking up a number of more colorful responses.

He led me over to a rock and slowly pulled it off. I felt my ankle, which had swelled to the size of a large apple.

"Is it broken?" I asked as I winced. It really did hurt.

"No," he replied. Then he asked to carry me to my father whom I was sure was delighted. I nodded. He swung me up into his arms, and I stiffened.

"I won't hurt you," he said. Then he bent his head, and his lips brushed my ear. I tried not to flinch. "Clever girl," he whispered. "I won't tell."

I jerked, but he simply tightened his arms around me. What did he mean? I knew what I heard in his voice, but I was unsettled. Mother said not to trust him, and I believed her, so I kept silent. I was never good at intrigue. Deceit when necessary, of course. But intrigue scared me. It was like a rat trap. It attracted all sorts with promises of reward and then snapped their necks.

"What did you do now, Areen?" father asked impatiently. I knew he was pleased because he wasn't yelling. "Clumsy child!"

Lord Boron played peacemaker and tried to pacify him, all the while bouncing me slightly in his arms to get a better grasp. Guessing that he didn't usually carry much weight, I decided to make him pay in my own way. I moaned and shifted slightly to make him lurch to hang onto me. I heard his gasp of pain and grinned like a fool inside. If I was going to hurt, I wasn't going to do it alone. I hoped his back ached enough to keep him from sleeping. I knew I wasn't going to.

"Set her down, Boron," father said angrily. "We've things to discuss."

His minion tried to obey, but I didn't let go at first and instead yanked on his fat neck. It was my last chance to wrench his back, and I made the most of it. I was happy to hear a small pop.

"Yes, father," I said meekly. I could hear Lord Boron grunting as he hobbled to his seat. I thought that was only proper. He wouldn't tell on me, and I wouldn't tell on me—a perfect arrangement.

"Areen," he said sternly, "handling the Durins will take great skill. If they think us weak, they'll think they have the power to bend us to their will. I won't stand for that. Therefore, you need to act _normal_."

There was that horrid word again. 'Why can't you act _normal?_" "Why aren't you _normal?_" "You'll _never_ be _normal!_" Of course, not being normal, how could I ever be exceptional? I was doomed to forever be a _burden._ Another hateful word. But I didn't have time to think about it more, and I bit my lip. I knew what was coming but, like before, it didn't make it any easier.

"And if I can't fool them, father?" I had to force that last out. He hardly deserved the term.

I could almost hear the leer. I imagined his face pulling up so that his lips reached his eyes, his wet gums gleaming.

"Sky and Summer will pay for it with their lives … so I know you'll be convincing."

Then, strangely, Lord Boron stopped him.

"I'm sure such measures aren't needed," he said slowly. "Areen will _not_ fail us. She's _smarter_ than you think."

I'm sure he was talking to me, not father, but I didn't understand why. It was one of those nudge, nudge, wink, wink things that I never got. I can read voices, but I'm not so good with intentions. You need to see facial expressions, body language, and all the other little essentials that make a complete picture. There I was literally and figuratively in the dark, and it made me nervous. I was sure they were having an easier time of it at Erebor.

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><p>"I don't see why I can't stay the way I am, Fili," Kili said sullenly. "Uncle isn't married, and no one bothers <em>him.<em> If he's so eager, why doesn't he marry her?"

Fili fingered the black tunic, green velvet jerkin, and black breeches laid out on Kili's bed.

"So they're ready," Fili said impressed. "Very nice."

He glanced over at his brother's dark expression and sighed. Ever since he married Della and had little Frerin, Kili had been aimless and depressed. He missed his brother's company and resented Della's insistence that Fili spend more time at home when his duties were done. No more exploring the slopes or jaunts to Dale. Of course, Kili loved his little nephew. The dwarfling practically lived on his shoulders, but his merry spirit was gone, and Thorin worried about him.

"He's not himself, Balin," Thorin had said almost a year ago while they watched Kili plod listlessly by. He carried out his responsibilities faithfully and well. No one could find fault him there, but his spark was gone. He turned to his faithful friend for his opinion.

"Perhaps finding a wife for himself might put the snap back in his step," Balin wondered. "He's a social lad unlike you, Thorin. He needs company."

The King of Erebor looked down at him in dismay, but he couldn't deny his words. He did enjoy his solitude and felt no need for more company than himself on most occasions. When he did want others around, his best friends and kin were all he required. Then he could return his chambers, enjoy a full glass of red wine, and look over reports and contracts. He might even sneak in some pages of a good book on dwarven history or battle strategies.

"Mmm, perhaps," he replied stroking his beard. Then his eyes lit with a spark. "Bring the princess of the Grey Mountains."

Balin looked skeptical.

"I hardly think she suits," he said doubtfully. "That's a small and insignificant clan. She hardly deserves the title. I think other, more established clans would have better candidates."

"No," Thorin replied, "she's the one."

Balin shook his head.

"I think we should try the other clans first. If he doesn't find one among them, then we can send for her. We're working out a contract with them anyhow and will require the lord's presence. He can bring his daughter then."

Thorin cocked his head to the side with two fingers against his lips as he considered Balin's words. Then he waved his hand.

"I'll agree to the others coming if you make certain she accompanies her father. I will leave the choice to the lad for the time being."

Then he leaned in.

"But if he doesn't pick one, I'll make my own choice."

Balin chortled.

"That means you need to entertain," he said slyly. "I seem to recall how much you hate it."

Thorin chewed his bottom lip.

"I would go to the Halls of Mandos and back for him, so I can put up with this."

So in short order, invitations went out from Erebor to strengthen ties with the other major dwarven settlements. One and all were delighted to come. Families came hoping to be associated with Erebor for greater reasons than distant kinship and trade. Kili was cheered for a time, but after the first few visits, he seemed to retreat even further into himself. The only joy Thorin saw was at the feast when he sat next to his brother.

"This isn't working," Thorin said to Balin and Dwalin after they watched Kili talk politely and then stifle a yawn. "There's no one who interests him. I knew this would happen."

"Well," Balin replied, conceding his case, "It seems you were right. Perhaps the problem is that they're all proper lasses concerned with doing the right thing and making a good impression. He needs someone like Fili, someone who's fun and adventurous. As you said, perhaps a lass from one of the outer settlements _would_ be a little less proper and more interesting. He does need someone who can match his spirit."

Thorin nodded with satisfaction. The princess of the Grey Mountains was far from court affairs or the rigid customs that seemed to strangle the life out of dwarrowdams. The colony there was fairly new, and reports from merchants on the dwarves who lived there were most interesting indeed. Thorin had been very entertained by some of their stories.

"Aye, so send for the princess of the Grey Mountains," Thorin said, pleased to have come to a good decision—at least in his mind.

Dwalin scratched his beard and looked down at his brother. The two raised their brows and shared a knowing look.

"As what?" Balin asked.

"As his intended, of course. If the lad can't choose for himself, then I will choose for him."

After another moment of silence, Dwalin decided to take a turn.

"He'll resent it, Thorin," he said. "No dwarrow wants such a decision made for him. He'll hate her before she ever steps foot in Erebor."

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><p><strong>So in the next chapter we'll see what happens! Please review!<strong>


	8. Chapter 8

**Thank you all for your kind remarks. Now I have a problem I need you all to solve. Who is Areen going to end up with? Some are rooting for Kili and some for Thorin. There are also those rooting for Feron. What do you think?**

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><p><strong>Chapter 8<strong>

I spent sleepless hours trying to find the _least_ uncomfortable position I could. But I wasn't discouraged. Not at all. I had companion in pain and that made all the difference. Lord Boron grunted and groaned the entire night. His poor back. I must have wrenched it something awful. I smiled to myself and snuggled down as best I could. I knew that father wanted me to look my best tomorrow. I don't think he gave a thought to Lord Boron. There was a part of me that felt bad for hurting him, but I was angrier that he plotted with father to hurt my dear companions.

Summer was nearby. I could tell by her soft snufflings. I liked to think that she was talking in her sleep and dreaming of wide meadows, green grass, fresh water, and a frisky stallion nearby. If she dreamed of me, I hoped she'd think of someone who loves her enough to risk the wrath of a powerful king to keep her alive. I felt Sky next to me. She had curled up against me in the night, and I was grateful for her warmth and loyal devotion. Somehow, she knew I was hurt and kept away from my ankle. I finally fell asleep with my head on her back.

The warm sun woke me after only a few hours of sleep. I had a moment of lovely peace before I heard angry voices. Otha hurried to my side. Behind her were heavy footfalls. I didn't need to guess whose they were.

"Do what you must to try to make her presentable," my father said to Otha. "You!" He called to Kitra. "Tie that dog to the wagon."

Then I heard Summer stamping and whinnying in a panic. The guards shouted and I heard a whip cracking. I tried to get up and fell. Kitra hauled me back up.

"Stop! Stop!" I cried. "Don't hurt her!"

I had never whipped Summer, and I was desperate to stop them. Then I heard Lord Boron.

"Cease this at once, do you hear?" he said loudly. "She doesn't need you all crowding around and making her frantic. Step back now!"

I heard him speak soothingly to Summer and urge her toward me.

"Come see your mistress, Summer," he crooned. "I won't hurt you. That's a good lass."

I heard him take the reins and clap her gently on the rump to get her moving.

"Summer, come here," I called. "Here girl!" She nickered and trotted over.

Thrusting her head against my chest, she nearly knocked me down. Otha and Kitra stood on either side, and I made my way with their help along Summer's neck and hugged her chest. She lowered her head as she always did and held me close.

"Good girl, good girl." She was so strong, but her life was now in my hands, and I started shaking. I couldn't do this. I couldn't fool the Durins, and she would die.

"I can't do this. Help me, Mahal, I can't do this!"

My teeth started chattering, and Summer whinnied. She felt my distress, and it drew unwanted attention to us.

Otha and Kitra leaned in.

"We will be there to help you and make any excuses you need," Otha said in a low voice.

"Aye," Kitra added. "The trade agreement won't take long, and once it's signed, they'll be safe no matter what happens after."

I supposed she was right, but truth doesn't always calm the heart. Not mine anyway. Once a picture appeared in my mind, it was hard to get rid of it. Increasingly terrible images flashed through my mind until I imagined King Thorin holding me by my ankle over the wall of Erebor. I had heard that he did that with one of his company for deceiving him—a harmless hobbit, I think—so why wouldn't he do the same to me?

I nodded like I was feeling better anyway and felt along Summer's back. I suspected the cause of her fear, and I was right. The side-saddle was hanging under her belly because she panicked before they tightened the girth. It was one of those moments when I wished I could see. I wanted to watch them put a saddle on a horse who'd never worn one before.

"Easy there, Summer, easy there," I said, trying to calm her, but there was no way she was going to allow the saddle. Then I thought of something else.

"Lord Boron," I called, his name tasting like bile in my mouth, "I think I may have a solution to the problem."

I was pleased to hear him hobble over. Then I wondered what King Thorin and his princely nephews would think of us all crutching in to wince before him.

"I can ride side-saddle without the saddle, my lord," I said demurely.

He patted Summer's neck, and I filed away a thought to wash her down at the first opportunity.

"If you think you can, my princess," he said while obviously thinking through what could happen, "but the saddle is safer."

I shook my head. No, it wasn't, and he knew it. Then I felt his breath near my ear. I hoped this wasn't becoming a habit.

"As long as you're sure, my lady," he said. "_I_ wouldn't want anything to happen to _you._"

There it was again, that breathy hint of insinuation. I wished Feron was with me. He was always my greatest champion. I was never teased or bullied as a child, and I never knew why until years later. Mebla and Tildur used to help me get around until I knew our lands as well as them. Later, Mebla told me that Feron would walk a few paces in front of me, beside me, or behind me with clenched fists and glare at anyone who even smirked. He was always a big lad. He would know what to do now, or Lord Vinn. It was too much to hope that they all would come in two months. I might be dead by then, laying in a crushed heap at foot of Erebor's walls while King Thorin shouted curses at my dead body. It _could_ happen. Anything could happen.

Lord Boron convinced father to let me try to ride Summer my way, but he wasn't happy about it.

"Ungrateful child," he muttered. "That saddle was expensive."

I mumbled my apologies and, after Otha and Kitra made me look as well as they could, I stood beside Summer and whispered in her ear. She folded her legs and settled on the ground. I felt along her back and seated myself carefully. I hoped I wouldn't fall.

"Up girl!"

Summer carefully got to her feet, and I had Otha adjust my skirts.

"Why you look lovely, my lady," Lord Boron said from his pony. "Just lovely."

I had no idea if that was true, but I didn't care to ask. It wouldn't have made any difference anyway.

We traveled for some miles before everything suddenly went white, and the air turned cold. I smelled snow, which was odd for spring. Then I knew I was facing the mountain. I couldn't see anything but white, but I was already overwhelmed. Father and Lord Boron gushed at its size and majesty. It must have been quite a sight, but all I wanted to do was gallop away as fast as I could. I wondered if Dale would accept political refugees.

Too soon we heard sentries call and stop our little caravan.

"Halt! Who approaches Erebor, the kingdom of Thorin Oakenshield?"

I snorted softly, but no one heard me. I could tell that they were too preoccupied with gawping at what must have been the massive front wall and doors of the mountain. I'm sure it was impressive to say the least, but I was more taken with the sentries' words. It would have been enough to say "Who approaches Erebor?" but to add "the kingdom of Thorin Oakenshield" seemed a bit over the top. I bet that the king himself told them to say that. Since five armies fought over the mountain, I guessed he wanted to make sure that everyone knew who won. Father answered calmly. Greed can work wonders.

"You may approach and enter."

I turned to my loyal maids.

"See it for me," I whispered.

Kitra pulled her pony closer. While Otha was quick-witted, Kitra was much more creative and had helped me "see" during our journey.

"There are two massive statues with grim faces carved into the mountain on either side of the front gate, which is as tall as the low hill beyond our gate," she said softly.

I started breathing faster.

"The front of the mountain is black and green granite, and flags of royal blue and black are flying from the ramparts above. The sentries are attired in red and gold. It's, um, it's the most magnificent sight I've ever seen."

I flinched. And this was only the outside the mountain!

Father called a sentry forward and explained my condition—the only one he would admit to, that is. We waited outside for a long while until I heard a commotion to my left.

"Prepare yourself, my lady," Otha whispered. "They're bringing out a wheeled chair."

Sky whined by the wagon and strained at the leash. She barked for me, and I didn't turn around. I held myself stiffly and forced myself not to cry. Father hit her nose, and I heard her yelp in pain and cower. My resolve to repay my father strengthened.

"My lady?" an unfamiliar voice called below me on my left. I nodded as royally as I could manage and patted Summer on the neck.

"Down girl!"

The sentries gasped in amazement as she gracefully dipped to the ground. I was sure that not even Thorin Oakenshield or his nephews had ponies bowing to them! I smiled widely while looking down so they couldn't see my eyes.

"Good girl," I said and patted her fondly. "My dear, dear friend."

Then I turned to Otha.

"Bring Sky to me." Father couldn't do anything in front of them, and I was determined to at least say farewell for now.

She nodded and, after a moment, I heard a lovely panting sound racing toward me. Summer tossed her head, and they touched noses. Then Sky trotted over to me with a happy howl, and I hugged her around the neck. I scratched her ears and under her chin. Her tail thumped loudly on the ground.

"A wolf, my lady?"

I almost laughed. It never occurred to me that anyone would be afraid of Sky

"Go with them, Sky," I ordered. She whined and lapped my hand. "I'll see you soon, but go!"

Dropping her head, she let Otha take her away.

Then one of the sentries swung me up in his arms after asking permission and carefully placed me in the chair. The front gates opened with a rumbling that sounded like thunder. I could hear massive chains creaking as they strained to hold enormous counterweights. The chains were well-oiled because I couldn't hear the grinding of rust. King Thorin clearly cared about details. That did not bode well for me.

"Each link is the size of a dwarf, my lady," Kitra whispered. They we were led into the Great Hall. Even I could hear the cavernous echo of thousands of dwarves bustling about the mountain. It felt huge, and I, in comparison, felt like an ant. Father and Lord Boron were speechless as well since I heard nothing from them, and that scared me more than anything else. We walked, well, they walked for what seemed like miles before we stopped. Our sentries informed the guards at the door who we were, and they nodded. The heavy doors groaned open, and I was wheeled into a large room. Kitra leaned over, pretending to adjust my cloak around my shoulders and see to my comfort.

"We're in the throne room, my lady," she whispered. "I believe that's Prince Fili standing on the right. He's the one with blond hair. Prince Kili is standing on the left. He's dark and so handsome, my lady."

"And sitting between them?"

Kitra looked up again and gasped. I don't know how she could have missed him, but I suppose she was looking for "my intended."

"Oh, my lady, it's, it's …"

I heard a shifting in front of me. Then a deep voice resounded throughout the room.

"Welcome to Erebor."

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><p><strong> Please review!<strong>


	9. Chapter 9

**Wow, Kili and Thorin are running neck and neck! At this point, I'm not sure who she'll end up with. I guess I'll have to find out with you all! Many thanks for the reviews, PMs, and interest. Final exam tomorrow, but I needed a few breaks after all, so here they are!**

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><p><strong>Chapter 9<strong>

I don't know what happened, but that voice turned me into a quivering aspic. I was glad I was sitting down. My legs wouldn't have stood the strain even with my cane. I tried to still my shivering so they wouldn't notice. It certainly wouldn't do to faint at first acquaintance. I chided myself for being silly. Maybe all my fears and worries of the past few weeks just wanted to be introduced as well. Since we'd been constant companions lately, they may have felt that they had earned the right. Or maybe it was just the acoustics. Some dwarves spent their lives studying how sound bounces off stone and where to place objects to minimize or maximize effects. That's important to keep machinery from flying apart from the vibrations or stone from cracking. Perhaps King Thorin's ancestors had constructed the throne room in such a way as to make the voice of anyone sitting in that chair sound like a battle cry. It certainly convinced me. I expected to go to war in my wheeled chair any second.

Father and Lord Boron bowed immediately. I knew because I can detect groveling at 50 paces. I inclined my head, hoping for quiet dignity, but any hope I had was already destroyed by being wheeled into the throne room like a pile of refuse. It was maddening, but that stiffened my spine. By Mahal, I might not be able to stand tall with my head held high, but I could certainly sit up straight in my chair!

Father's pride rallied admirably, and he smoothly introduced Lord Boron. I wondered what he was going to say about me. He was so unused to saying anything remotely kind or encouraging that I thought the words might choke him on their way out.

"And this is my daughter, the Princess Areen."

He said it with such satisfaction that I almost bawled. I had never heard _any _love in his voice toward me before. Of course, it was all a front, and I was depressed that he said it only to fill his pockets with Erebor's gold.

Another silence and a slight shifting told me that something else was happening. Then I heard footsteps coming toward me. His gait was light and almost noiseless. A tracker, I thought, or a hunter. Hmmm, perhaps an archer then, although that was somewhat rare among our people. I couldn't think of anything else such a quiet dwarf could be since dwarves were usually anything but quiet. We are a slash and hack people, and subtlety is seldom a word that passes our lips. I liked the bow and arrow at one time myself, but now I couldn't hit the side of a mountain, even a mountain the size of Erebor.

"My lady," I heard a lighter voice say. I raised my hand and felt hair sweep the back of it as he pressed a kiss. No beard? That was unusual. I flashed my eyes up and then down to pretend that I was shy. Mebla and Tildur would have been in hysterics watching. I imagined Feron shaking his head and beckoning me to leave this madness and run away with him.

"I'm sorry you're injured," he said quietly. I kept my head down and smiled while I listened to his polite but slightly bored overtone. His undertone was much more interesting. Reluctance, yes, with a large helping of bitterness and generous dash of resentment. So he hated this as much as me and was no doubt forced into it, but that made no sense. Surely Prince Kili could have anything and anyone he wanted.

"What happened?" came that booming voice again. I had no idea who was supposed to answer, but it wasn't going to be me. I tucked my head safely into my chest and cheerfully passed the coin. Father hemmed and Lord Boron hawed, but he finally came out with something coherent.

"Princess Areen's pony was spooked when she was dismounting, and she twisted her ankle when she fell."

I heard a rumbling in front of me and instinctively looked up and sniffed for rain. The kings of Erebor certainly made good use of their engineers. I hoped he was satisfied with the answer. I was going to get a headache otherwise.

"I see," he said. "My personal physician will attend her and see to her needs."

Oh no, he wasn't! Father stepped forward.

"I wouldn't want to trouble Your Majesty," he said carefully. "Her maids can care for her."

King Thorin didn't answer. Something wasn't right, but I couldn't figure it out, and I couldn't see anything in halls this dark. No light, no colors, no shapes, nothing.

"Her ankle may be broken," he said slowly. I knew it! Attention to detail. He didn't defeat a firedrake and four armies for nothing. "If it isn't showing improvement by tomorrow then he will see to her."

His tone was final. I cocked my head and tried to read it. His overtone was firm, confident, and proud, but not the pride that makes one look like a fool. His pride was a pleased pride like he was happy to be in his home and proud of his people. I smiled to myself. It was rather endearing, and it made up for his nearly blowing my ears off my head. Then I tried to decipher his undertone, but there was nothing to puzzle out. _Nothing._ Everyone had an undertone. _Everyone_ had things that they wanted to say but didn't. But apparently King Thorin hid nothing. That was a surprise. I thought that a king would have a lot to hide. Perhaps then he had all he wanted and so had no hidden desires or complaints. If that was true, he was the first dwarf I'd ever met who was completely satisfied.

"Attendants will take you to the guest chambers now so you can rest for a few hours," he intoned. "Then we will prepare food for you in the formal dining hall."

"We thank you for your hospitality," father said while trying to lose his awe and gain equal footing with the Durins.

In all my ruminating, I completely forgot that Prince Kili was still standing next to me.

"Shall I accompany you to your chambers?" he asked politely.

"I would be glad of it," I replied just as politely.

Otha and Kitra followed closely behind, ready to jump in in case I blundered, but I knew what I wanted to say.

"So I believe you're an archer, Prince Kili," I said softly, smirking to myself. I caught him off-guard as I knew I would.

"How did you know?" he asked with surprise.

_Bull's eye._ I laughed to myself. It was nice to turn the tables on at least one Durin. I hoped I would have more opportunities. If not, I would make them myself. Since I had to be here, I might as well have some fun with them as long as I didn't compromise my secret.

"Your gait," I replied. "You make little noise"—_unlike your uncle,_ I thought—"and that's a skill most used by trackers and hunters. They don't use an ax, sword, or staff, but a bow makes sense."

He hummed. I could tell he was impressed even though he wasn't going to say so.

"Do you shoot, my lady?" he asked.

"Not right now," I replied.

Silence. I thought that was pretty clever, but I guess he didn't agree.

"I used to shoot when I was younger, but," and then I hesitated.

"But?" he prompted.

But I almost died. But I went blind. But I lost the only life I'd ever known to stumble in the smudges for years. But, but, but …. I cleared my throat.

"But the duties of the realm interfered, and I had to put down my bow. I'd love to shoot again."

Stupid! Stupid! Why did I say that? I wished I _could_ shoot, but I never meant to say so.

"Well," he replied, "when your ankle is healed we can shoot together."

Were we at my chambers yet? Just how big _was_ this mountain? I was getting tired, and I knew from experience and the comments of friends that I tended to rattle on when I was tired. Otha subtly cleared her throat.

"That sounds lovely, but I'm afraid I've lost my skill."

There! That should put him off.

"Well," he said tonelessly, "I'd be delighted to re-teach you."

I sighed. There was nothing to do but nod my head graciously.

"These are your chambers, my lady," he said softly. "I will return in a few hours to take you to the dining hall."

"I thank you," I said. Kitra cleared her throat, and I lifted my hand in time for him to bestow another gentle kiss. The end of the day couldn't come soon enough.

I had hopped over to a luxurious bed and settled down for a welcome nap when Lord Boron knocked on the door. His timing was always awful. I suspected he planned it that way.

"Whatever does he want?" Otha whispered, but I nodded my head and moved to sit at the edge of the bed.

"My lady," he said as he strode into my bed chamber without a by-your-leave, "I thought you handled yourself wonderfully just now, and I thought that perhaps we should work out a few signals together for the feast this evening."

He made some sense, some _small_ sense, but the last thing I wanted was to work together on anything.

"We aren't even sure we'll be seated near each other, my lord," I said hoping that was true. "I expect I'll be seated next to my husband-to-be."

He chuckled and complimented my logical mind.

"Ah, my lady, but I'll make certain that _I'm_ sitting next to _you_."

I didn't care what he was hinting at. I just wanted him to leave.

"Aye, well, I'm sure we can come up with something suitable, my lord, but I really must rest or else I'm sure that no signal will stop me from making a horrible mistake."

He left after giving me a long and lingering kiss on my hand. Otha ran for a wash cloth as soon as he was gone.

I slept soundly but was awakened too soon to bathe and ready myself for a dinner with two princes and a king. Father didn't count. Otha braided my hair, and Kitra brought out the gown to match mother's jewelry. It fit well, but I felt a draft on my chest.

"Is it too revealing?" I asked. I wasn't used to formal wear, and I felt my chest swelling a bit above the dip in the neckline. It wasn't immodest, but more of me was showing than usual.

"The gown is tasteful but teasing," Kitra said.

That was enough to make me uncomfortable. A tempting neckline in front of father? How embarrassing! Then again, he probably wouldn't notice. Something tickling my mind told that Lord Boron might.

Prince Kili showed up at my door on time, and Lord Boron just showed up.

"You looked lovely," Prince Kili said quietly.

"Aye," Lord Boron seconded. I was sure I imagined him smacking his lips. "_Very_ lovely indeed."

Prince Kili took charge of my wheeled chair, and I took a deep breath as we entered the formal dining hall. I already knew where it was because of the smell of roast kid and other meats wafting my way. Two sentries bowed and mumbled "My lords" before widening the door for us. Inside I heard the murmur of more dwarves than the immediate family.

"Ah, Princess Areen!" came a very friendly voice. I couldn't help smiling. "I'm Prince Fili, brother to this sorry dwarf whose life has just taken a turn for the better!"

I liked him already. He was much more cheerful than his brother or uncle, and he seemed kinder too. Something had softened him. Then his softener came up behind him.

"And this is my wife, Della."

I looked up under my lashes as he kissed my hand cheerfully, and Princess Della took my other.

"I'm so happy to meet you at last," she said.

I smiled in return.

"So when are you due, my lady?"

A sudden silence told me that she wasn't far enough along to show, and I bit my lip. But I wasn't wrong. Pregnant women have a peaty smell that sensitive noses can spot immediately. When I was a child, I always wondered why dogs seemed to push their snouts where they didn't belong, and why it was always the women folk who shooed them away. Later I realized that they could sniff out a fertile female on the spot.

"I'm afraid you're mistaken, Princess Areen," Fili spluttered, trying somehow to make up for my mistake. It was lovely and somewhat funny to hear him try.

"Fili."

"Della's still a little plump from having Frerin, but she's not expecting," he stammered.

"Fili dear."

"I'm sure you couldn't have known that, so no harm done."

"Fili!"

Della squeezed my hand.

"I wasn't going to tell you until later this evening, but I went to see Oin today. She's right, my love."

I heard a gurgling sound before Prince Fili swept up his wife and shouted to the rest of the room. Pregnancy was one of the many, many reasons dwarves exploit to hoist ale, so we quickly rounded the table. Prince Kili sat to my right, and somehow Lord Boron got himself settled on my left.

"How did you know?" my husband-to-be muttered.

I took a deep breath. Then I realized that blindness would be the last thing they'd guess, so I could say anything reasonable.

"It's just one of those things we can know about each other."

Lord Boron grunted admiringly. Then he leaned over after Prince Fili caught his brother's attention.

"I'll fix your plate the way it is at home," he whispered, his nose brushing one of my braids.

I nodded, not wanting to prolong the interaction. At home, my dinner plate was always served with breads on the left, vegetables on the right, and the meat in the middle. My water-glass was always on the left, and my wine goblet or ale tankard on the right.

Suddenly, His Highness Himself addressed me.

"I congratulate you on your perception, Princess Areen," he said. His voice was still deep and resonant, but I was right about the acoustics. I looked somewhere in his general direction and smiled.

"May I ask you to apply that perception to your first impressions of Erebor?"

Ugh. He was fishing for compliments. I suppose after nearing dying for it along with his kin, he deserved a little praise, but father and Lord Boron had already said everything I could think of. I blurted out the only thing that came to mind.

"Hmmm, aye, well, your chains at the front gate are well-oiled."

Another silence. I _really_ needed to think first. No amount of throat-clearing was going to get me out of that one. Surprisingly, Prince Fili came to my rescue again with uproarious laughter that pulled others in.

"She's got you pinned, uncle!" he shouted while slapping his knees. He laughed until even Prince Kili let out a few chuckles. Then I heard an unknown voice down the table.

"Well, lass, you just may understand our king better than any of us because he certainly does take pride in details," said a very amused older voice. "My name is Balin, my lady, and I must say that you are a breath of fresh air."

The king only hummed and then we turned our attention to our food. It was well-cooked but not especially flavorful. I had brought some herbs and spices from home as a keepsake, but I thought that my meal needed them more. Everyone ate well enough, but I didn't hear any of the grunts and moans of delighted approval. It was good but no more. Perhaps the Durins put all their energy into Erebor and had little left over for setting menus, but if I was going to live here, the cook and I needed to chat.

I was just about to put a forkful of potatoes in my mouth when the king addressed me again. I hoped I wasn't in trouble.

"You honor us by wearing your jewelry from Erebor, Princess Areen," he said with a hint of approval.

I touched mother's necklace, and words came to my mind. I was sure of them this time.

"Actually, Your Majesty," I said, "my mother lent this to me so that all my house may honor you and your people. I've loved this necklace ever since I was a child, and I'm blessed to wear it in its birthplace."

A chorus of surprised murmurs told me that I was on target.

"Indeed," the king said in a slightly warmer tone.

Soon enough we had eaten our fill, and I needed to rest.

"I will take her back, Prince Kili," Lord Boron said. "You deserve to celebrate your new nephew."

Otha and Kitra followed close behind as Lord Boron slowly wheeled me to my chambers.

"I knew you'd be equal to the challenge," he said warmly. "My faith in you wasn't misplaced."

I decided to imitate King Thorin.

"Indeed."

Personally, I was just glad I survived the day.

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><p><strong>Please review!<strong>


	10. Chapter 10

**Finals are over so bonus chapter! Thanks for your lovely support and entrance in the Thorin vs. Kili Sweepstakes!**

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><p><strong>Chapter 10<strong>

Thorin and Balin sat in the dining hall, drinking leftover ale, and picking apart the day.

"So what do you think?" Balin asked. "They're a minor family but perfectly respectable, and they _do _have the finest dyes and spices we can find in the area."

Thorin nodded but said nothing, his attention fixed on the amber liquid in the crystal tankard held in a silver frame.

"Aye, they do."

Balin tilted his head and observed his somber king.

"But?"

Thorin looked up, his gray-blue eyes thoughtful.

"But there's something strange going on," he replied quietly. "I can't explain why I think so, but the hair on the back of my neck went up when they were introduced."

Balin put his elbow on the table and held the side of his face between his fingers and thumb.

"Do you suspect treachery or dishonesty?'

Thorin inhaled and exhaled slowly, pressing his lips together.

"I'm not certain," he replied, his eyes slightly unfocused as though he was looking off into the distance. "Something is awry, but I can't prove why I think so."

Balin bobbed his head from side to side while he considered the possibilities. Entering into a trade agreement was a serious matter and depended on the honor and trustworthiness of one's partners. Thorin was always fair but cautious in his dealings. So far, everything seemed in order; that is, until now. He couldn't see anything immediately wrong, but Thorin's instincts were on target more often than not.

"What will you do?"

His king took a long drink, pushed the tankard away, and steepled his hands under his nose.

"I won't sign the agreement right away," he replied. His eyes narrowed as he thought through his plan. "I'll ask them all to stay for about two months. At the end of that time, I'll know what I need to. I'll give them some gold upfront as a measure of good faith. Perhaps that'll relax their guard, and I can find out what I want to know."

Balin pursed his lips and nodded.

"And if you're wrong?"

Thorin shrugged matter-of-factly.

"Then no harm done."

* * *

><p>I slept fairly well, and in the morning Otha told me that I had received a message from Prince Kili. Something had come up, and he wouldn't be able to spend time with me today. I think the thing that came up was me. I didn't blame him. I liked the idea of a day to myself. I needed to come up with strategies anyway to deal with the Durins until the agreement was signed. Then I didn't care if they wanted me or not. Feron was coming and, if I wasn't allowed to stay, I'd go away with him. I felt a little strange about that though. My silly crush faded away a long time ago and what was left was a fond friendship. Then I considered his offer briefly. At the moment, I couldn't add it to my list of things to think about, but I was sure I would come to love him in time if I needed to. His embrace was warm and welcoming, and he never tried to bend me to his will. That was important. I couldn't be anything other than myself—excepting the present circumstances, of course—and I needed someone who'd let me be me. I hoped Prince Kili was the understanding sort.<p>

"Did he say couldn't or _wouldn't?_" I asked. She looked at the parchment again.

"It says wouldn't." She pulled a face. "Perhaps he meant couldn't. Anyway, he says that you're to rest your ankle today so you can recover faster. Maybe he's hoping to take you shooting soon."

Hmm, maybe I could make it through today without dislocating my jaw from my foot being wedged firmly between my teeth.

"Is that all?"

Otha sighed. "It seems that King Thorin has extended an invitation for your father and Lord Boron to stay for two months."

I hoped I was wrong in what I was thinking, but nothing seemed to go my way lately.

"Before or after he's signed the trade agreement?"

I held my breath waiting for the answer. I knew I couldn't hold on for two months. I was sure before, but it was only confirmed at my first meeting them that the Durins were no fools and would find out quickly.

"After, my lady, we're so sorry," Otha replied in obvious distress. Kitra added her condolences.

I felt a hollow feeling in my belly. Sky and Summer were going to die. Their death sentences were already signed. Kitra ran for a handkerchief.

"There, there, my lady," she said soothingly. "Perhaps it won't be so bad after all. We've been treated very kindly by King Thorin's staff, and that's unusual for servants. Perhaps he'll treat you the same."

Aye, like a servant. Maybe he'd put me in charge of scrubbing his privy. I wasn't impressed, and I was getting angrier by the moment. How could father and Lord Boron put me in this position? I had a good mind to limp to their rooms and kick them both in their most sensitive spots. Then I'd take Summer and Sky and run away. I was sure we could find our way home.

"That's not all, my lady," Otha said. I could tell that she was dreading my response. I had just wiped away my weepy tears, but she seemed sure that her other news would send me off the height of hysterics.

"King Thorin has instructed his personal physician to see you this morning."

I threw myself into my pillow and sobbed.

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><p>Master Oin had come to my door twice already, but I managed to dodge him. I would say that was pretty amusing since I could hardly walk at all, but desperation was known to increase one's speed, and I was too upset to joke. The first time my maids said I was in the privy, and the second time I was "in my bath." Their regretful tones appeased him the first time, but he was a little more forceful the second. I knew there wouldn't be a third.<p>

A knock confirmed my fears, and I jumped into bed and pulled the covers up, pretending to sleep.

"I'm sorry, Master Oin, but Princess Areen is asleep," Kitra said with just the right amount of polite indignation.

Bless mother for sending those two gems with me! Father was too obtuse to see that she had placed her allies under his nose. He had looked over from time to time only to see them muttering about me and scowling. Once he looked away, they rolled their eyes and tittered.

"Well, my lord ordered that I see to the lass," Master Oin said firmly, "and I'm sure she's slept enough for the day."

Without asking permission, he pushed the door open and marched in. It seemed that a king's command outweighed a princess' request. Of course it did.

"Princess Areen," he said in his normal tone. Mahal, he knew I wasn't asleep. "I see you're shy about my checking your ankle, but I have my orders. King Thorin insists that you receive the best care, and _that _is what you'll get—_now._"

I opened one eye and imagined a dwarf scowling down at me like an irritated and knowing parent. Pretending was over. I pushed the covers back and folded my arms across my chest. I had only one move left, and I hoped he was as honorable as his king. Everything depended on it. Mother's words about King Thorin rang in my head, but I pushed them away.

"Master Oin," I said in my most serious tone while I looked past him like a petulant child, "I will allow you to examine my ankle under the condition that you keep all information to yourself, never to share it with anyone. You need to swear to me on your honor and the oath you hold most sacred."

He didn't say anything at first. I wasn't sure he'd ever had a patient who demanded such a thing first-off. I held my pose while he shifted on his feet, no doubt trying to assess my secret. I hoped he didn't suspect anything serious yet. Everything all depended on him thinking that I was just shy and private.

"Why, my lady," he replied finally, "there's no need to be skittish. I'll not hurt you."

He chuckled a bit, but I held firm.

"Do you _swear?_" I demanded.

His breathing changed from calm and controlled to deep with loud puffs from his nostrils. Perhaps he suspected something but wasn't sure if it was serious enough to tell his princes and king. I could tell that he was weighing what I might tell him with his duty to his king's command.

"Aye," he replied finally, "I swear on my honor and Durin's tomb that I'll not share anything I learn from today."

I nodded and pulled out my injured leg from the sheets. He unwrapped the bandages and held my instep firmly while he gently manipulated my foot. I knew that the swelling had gone down and that the time would soon come when I couldn't justify the wheeled chair.

"Healing nicely. Let's compare this ankle to your other one," he said amiably. "So you knew that Princess Della was expecting, eh? That's unusual."

He paused and hummed for a moment like he was remembering something, but I shrugged and said nothing. I could hear Otha and Kitra drawing closer. He pulled the sheets off my other leg and placed them together. No one made a sound.

"My lady," he said slowly, "I assume that this is what you wanted to keep from me?"

I nodded and tears welled. I pulled my knees up and dropped my head on them. He sighed and lifted my chin. I looked away from his hand.

"This isn't so very much," he said. "There's no reason to feel ashamed. I don't know why your people didn't make a special shoe for you though."

My head jerked back to him. Such a thing had never occurred to me or anyone else. He inhaled slowly, his breath hissing between his teeth. My maids tried to rush him out the door, saying that he was done and could leave, but to no avail.

"Tell me," he asked, drawing out his words slowly, "what did you think of the throne room where you met King Thorin?"

I didn't know why he asked me that, but I was game.

"It was very loud," I answered, ducking my head like I was impressed but shy about sharing my opinion.

"I see," was all he said. I heard him tapping his foot.

"And how was your dinner last night?"

Now I knew that _something_ was afoot, but I couldn't figure it out. I felt lost, like everyone knew what was going on but me. Otha and Kitra kept making worried noises behind him and clearing their throats.

"It was good but rather bland for my taste," I replied softly. Then I knew why he had asked those questions. I was caught.

"Oh, lass!" he said softly, "how long did you think you could hide this?"

I fumbled for his hand. I was completely undone, and I was sure I looked like the small, stumbling child I once was.

"You mustn't tell, Master Oin," I cried. "You promised!"

I felt his weight as he sat on the edge of the bed.

"I can't keep this to myself, my lady," he replied. "It's not right for Prince Kili and King Thorin not to know. It's not fair to them."

I didn't care.

"You promised!" I said. "You promised on your honor and with an oath, and by all I love, I _will_ hold you to it!"

He took my hand and squeezed it.

"You should have told them. They deserve to decide whether or not you're suitable."

My blind eyes flashed. I knew I couldn't see him, but I would _make_ him see me! I jumped off the bed and turned to him.

"Guide my eyes to yours!" I commanded.

He lifted my face.

"Am I looking at you?"

"Aye," he replied uncertainly.

I balled my hands and faced him squarely.

"Then you listen _well,_" I said harshly. "Am I _less_ of a person because I'm blind? Have I lost my feelings, mind, or heart because a fever took my eyes? Do you discard your elderly or wounded because they're no longer _suitable?_ Don't we _honor_ them instead? I'll have you know that I'm _just_ as capable and fully myself as I was before I went blind, and if my blindness _offends_ your precious prince and king then they aren't good enough for _me!_"

I heard him stammer while he tried to take in what I said. Then Kitra came over and hugged me while Otha put her hand on my back. He made a noise of surprise.

"You're much-loved, my lady," he commented. "They defend you." Then he grudgingly added, "Not that you need it."

I lifted my chin proudly.

"No, I don't, not usually anyway," I said in a slightly more civil tone.

He slapped his knees and snorted, but I knew then I had him on my side.

"Well," he said, "we have quite the situation here. Why didn't your father say something from the start?"

"My people are hungry, so we needed this trade agreement," I explained impatiently. "I couldn't say anything because father said he would kill my guide dog and pony if anyone found out before the agreement was signed."

"Ah," he replied as all things became clear, "he doesn't want to show weakness then, does he? Tell me, my lady, did you want to come here?"

I shook my head.

"I was forced at first, Master Oin," I said, "but then I thought that I might be able to help my people who are suffering because of father's incompetence."

"You love them enough to go along with his cruelty for their sake?" he asked in a thoughtful tone.

I wasn't sure what he wanted to know, but it didn't matter anymore.

"Of course," I said. "They're my people, and I'd do _anythin_g for them. However, if I'm shunned here or cast off, a friend will take me away with him to the Iron Hills and marry me. His brother and sister would join us later since they're my dearest friends. It's all arranged if I agree."

"And we'd not leave you, my lady, so we'd be going with you too," Otha replied. Kitra loudly seconded.

His weight shifted on the bed. I got the feeling that he was somewhat unnerved.

"You have another suitor then? Has he bonded himself to you?"

I shook my head.

"No, he waits for word from me," I said slowly. I wasn't sure how wise it was to involve Feron at this moment, but then I remembered that if he wasn't going to reveal my blindness, then he certainly wasn't going to reveal anything else. "He's coming with the first shipment of dyes and spices to find out my answer."

Master Oin blew out his breath in a mighty whoosh.

"I promised not to tell on my honor and oath," he said at last, "but you'll not be able to put this by them for long, and Master Balin is shrewd to boot. You'd best come clean soon."

I shook my head.

"And have blood on my hands for it? No, Master Oin, I'd rather have your king come down on me with lightning and fire than betray those I love."

He heaved to his feet and kissed my hand.

"Your leg is shorter by two and a half inches," he said by way of sealing our pact. "I'll have a pair of boots and shoes made by tonight. The rest is up to you."

I took a relieved breath and smiled gratefully.

He walked to the door and opened it. Then I heard his voice one last time.

"Beware, my lady. If Thorin Oakenshield discovers your deceit, he _will_ come down on you with lightning and fire."

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><p><strong>Please review! I rushed this out as a thank you for your support.<strong>


	11. Chapter 11

**This is just a little chapter for now, but more is coming, and personalities will collide and clash. We'll see who's left standing when all's said and done.**

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><p><strong>Chapter 11<strong>

I waited in my chambers all day in excited anticipation. How would it feel to be even and steady for once? To walk with both hands free? Otha, Kitra, and I giggled as we gushed over Master Oin's wonderful gift. I couldn't imagine walking like everyone else, but in a few hours I would! Like everyone else! The pain of limping along would be gone—forever!

"Oh, my lady, you have a friend here!" Kitra said clapping her hands together.

Well, not exactly. More like a slight acquaintance tricked into keeping my secret. One side of my mouth pulled up into a grimace. He was quite stern about my being honest with the Durins, and I couldn't say he was wrong. No, I take that back. He was wrong, _really_ wrong about my blindness being an issue. I would _never_ take back what I said about that! If they didn't like me for me, then well and good. Everyone has that right, but I couldn't let him believe that my blindness made me less of a person. I won't accept that from _anyone. _

I thought about what might happen if King Thorin found out. Hmm, lightening and fire? I _had_ imagined him hanging me over the wall by my ankle, but I was being a bit—just a bit—dramatic. Perhaps Master Oin overstated the situation. Really, what was the big deal about my being blind anyway? It mattered to father, but it never mattered to anyone else; that is, anyone I cared about. Besides, King Thorin wanted our dyes and spices. I was just a goodwill add-on. If Prince Kili didn't want to marry me, he'd find a way around it. He was already off to a good start.

I had almost talked myself into agreeing with Master Oin and telling the truth for integrity's sake but then I decided to hold off until I could find a way to keep Sky and Summer safe. No one could think that unfair. The truth after my friends were out of father's reach. I sat down to my dinner satisfied that I had done what was right for everyone. It wasn't _exactly_ lying now. It was just a ... delay in telling truth. Aye, that fit _quite_ nicely.

After dinner, I heard a knock on the door, and a wave of excitement weakened my knees. Master Oin's reception would be very different from earlier in the day. We crowded around the door, bobbing up and down like overeager children.

"Now move aside, ladies," he said gruffly. "I can't even get through the door!"

But he wasn't upset. His voice seemed more amused than anything. He acted like a grandfather gently chiding his grandchildren for wanting their presents early. Otha and Kitra all but yanked him into the room. I knew my eyes were shining because he chuckled softly and chucked me under the chin.

"Ah, you're beaming, lass," he said in a kindly tone. "I pushed the cobblers hard to get these done, but your smile makes it all worthwhile. The last time I saw someone this happy was when King Thorin first took the throne with the dwarves from Ered Luin cheering him on. Aye, that was a sight to remember."

He carefully led me over to the bed and sat me down. Then he kneeled at my feet. Otha and Kitra stood on either side and gasped as he pulled two pairs of shoes and one pair of boots out of a leather satchel.

"Oh, my lady," Kitra breathed with sincere appreciation, "one pair is black velvet with little diamonds on the toes."

I imagined my feet glittering as I walked proudly down the hallways. The other pair was royal blue velvet with blue, satin bows. A sparkling sapphire in the middle attached them to the shoes. Otha nearly lost her voice describing them. The last was a sturdy pair of tall, brown riding boots embossed with geometric designs.

"Thank you, Master Oin!" I cried. "Oh, thank you!"

I felt the air until I touched his shoulders, and then I threw myself into his arms. He almost fell over, but he chuckled and patted my back. I felt him kiss my forehead.

"I still think you need to tell King Thorin," he said, "but I can't be angry at that face. Come, let's try them out and see how you do."

I ran my fingers reverently over the shoes and felt the soft velvet so thick that I could push a finger into the nap.

"I had them make the heels black to blend in with the floors," he said. "That way it will be harder to see the difference."

Attention to detail. I knew I would rue that someday, but I blessed it now. I slipped the black pair on, and Master Oin held one hand while Otha held the other.

"Small steps, my lady," he said. "That's it. Easy does it."

They slowly eased away from me until I was walking on my own. I felt so tall! Oh! What a glorious feeling, and my hips and shoulders didn't ache. I walked unsteadily at first but caught on to the rhythm after about 30 minutes. I couldn't get enough of it.

"Swing your arms a little when you walk, my lady," he said. "Don't cradle your arm like you used to when you needed to balance yourself."

I obeyed his directions and even was able to skip a little. They chuckled and laughed at my exuberance.

"Can I dance, do you think?" I never could before, but I wanted to try.

Master Oin took my hand and had me step back, so he could bow.

"My lady," he asked formally," may I have this dance?"

He took my hand and told me what to do. I had never twirled and whirled before, and even though he did it slowly, I felt like I could fly. Then Otha and Kitra took my hands, and we spun in a circle until I got dizzy.

"No more, my lady," he said firmly. "Your ankle's still tender."

I dropped on my bed laughing and then thought of something else.

"Do you think I can climb some _stairs?_"

I must have looked so excited that Master Oin grudging agreed. The four of us hurried out the door and went to the first staircase. I had never gone up stairs two at a time. No one else would think it such a big event, but I thought I was ascending to Mahal himself.

"Take tight hold of my hand, my lady," he said firmly. "I don't want you tumbling down."

I felt like a queen walking up the stairs with my head held high. Otha and Kitra whispered encouragement, and I heard many joyful sighs.

"I wish your mother could see this," Otha said wistfully. He turned me around at the top, and I giggled and hugged him hard. Then everyone went quiet. I heard a deep voice at the bottom.

"What is this?" King Thorin asked. I imagined him dressed in his furred robes and rich, royal blue jerkin with a thick sapphire chain around his neck. Kitra had described his attire to me after dinner. She was so enthralled by his finery that she didn't think to tell me what he looked like.

He sounded suspicious, and I swayed on my feet. Master Oin steadied me and put his hand on my shoulder. I assumed that Otha and Kitra had retreated to a safe distance and couldn't be of immediate help. Master Oin cleared his throat and ummed until he got his story together.

"Ah, I'm walking her up and down the stairs to see how she's doing," he called from the top. "True enough if a bit misleading," he muttered under his breath.

"And that's just what I'm doing, Master Oin," I cut in softly. "I'll tell all after I've secured Sky and Summer's safety."

I heard a low grumble at the bottom of the stairs. King Thorin was clearly discussing our behavior with someone else.

Then Master Oin helped me descend step by step, and I looked down like I was worried about tripping. No one would think that odd. He tightened his grip to let me know that we were at the last stair.

"Down you go, my lady," he said for the benefit of our audience. "I think your ankle's almost healed."

I turned to the king who gave himself away by his deep breaths. Little hums of curiosity alerted me to Lord Balin's presence.

"King Thorin, Lord Balin," I said and curtsied deeply. I secretly gloried in the fact that I could do it gracefully and completely. That they didn't know it was my first time made it more of a triumph.

"How are you feeling, Princess Areen?" King Thorin asked slowly.

I could feel him examining me and knew that he sensed something amiss. He didn't know what I was sure, but he was clever. I only hoped I was more so.

"Much better, Your Highness, and I thank you for asking," I said demurely with my eyes on the ground. "It's wonderful to be out and about and in such beautiful surroundings. The wall carvings are stunning."

Ha! Another one of Kitra's detailed descriptions. I dipped my head and kept my eyes on the ground. No one would question my not looking the king in the eye. Court protocol allowed a maiden to avoid eye contact as a sign of modesty. I had thought more than once that perhaps the dwarves who had designed the royal protocols made them for the blind. Even if not, the rules were a big help now. I stood quietly and waited for them to speak.

"We're glad you're on the mend, child," Lord Balin said carefully. "We look forward to seeing you in the morning."

I smiled appropriately and nodded. No doubt they were plotting to gang up on me. However, I had my own flash-fire to lob.

"Will Prince Kili be joining me?"

It seemed that he and I were both playing the same game for different reasons and that King Thorin was in the middle of it all. The shuffling of embarrassed feet clued me in that Prince Kili had won another round.

"Ah, lass," Lord Balin answered with obvious discomfort. "It seems he's taken ill."

I made the proper noises of concern, although what I really wanted to do was laugh so hard that I drooled and tip my cap if I had one to a very clever prince. He was making his feelings obvious to everyone, and there was nothing King Thorin could do about it at the moment. Of course, his nephew was surely going to get a stern talking-to soon, and I wished I could be there to hear it. Lightening and fire indeed!

"Ah, well, please send my best wishes," I replied with a quick curtsy. Master Oin took me by the arm and said that I'd better return to my chambers. He practically ran me back. Otha and Kitra bustled behind.

* * *

><p>Balin turned to Thorin.<p>

"What was that all about?" he asked while scratching his ear.

Thorin looked up the stairs and then turned to stare down the hall where Oin had scurried away with his arms around the princess.

"He acted strangely, and she didn't look up once," he observed with his brow furrowed and his mouth scrunched in unhappy lines.

Balin shrugged. "Well, that's acceptable protocol."

Thorin shook his head.

"I brought her here because of her high spirits and fearlessness, but I don't see _any_ of that."

Waving one hand, Balin dismissed his concerns.

"She might be embarrassed to have come to Erebor in such a state. Besides, Erebor _is _intimidating, and so are you."

But the king wouldn't be put off.

"No, the reports I heard were of a princess who was completely self-assured and unimpressed by wealth and appearances. I'm disappointed, Balin. Kili needs someone who can pull him out of himself, and I was so sure she was the one. The stories the merchants told spoke of a much-loved and adventurous lass. Their stories convinced me, but she isn't anything like that."

Balin hummed.

"Well, somehow she seems to have Oin on her side. He was hiding something for certain, and I have a hunch that she put him up to it. It's a rare one, to be sure, to win the loyalty of one of the company. He's with _her_ on whatever's going on and not with _us._"

Thorin was even more concerned after hearing Balin's observation. It rang true in his gut though he could hardly believe it. How was that _possible?_ Whatever it took, he was going to uncover the truth. _Whatever_ it took. In the meantime, he was going to have a _talk_ with Kili. His nephew may miss breakfast, but he wasn't going to miss the feast tomorrow night. If he didn't show his face, his uncle would order that no food be given to him until he presents himself and acts like a prince of the realm. Thorin reflected grimly that he was acting more like a child. He looked down the hall again and shook his head. Things were not going at all like he planned.

* * *

><p><strong>Since school's out for the next few weeks, I'll have plenty of time to write, so expect things to really take off in the next chapter! And don't worry. Kili will make his appearance!<strong>


	12. Chapter 12

**Now before anyone jumps to conclusions, Areen isn't with ANYONE yet. There's still a lot more to come before it becomes clear, and it might not until close to the end, so stay with me, folks!**

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><p><strong>Chapter 12<strong>

I went to sleep with a smile on my face and dreams of dancing up and down the stairs. A dream I didn't dare believe had come true! How I wished mother was here! Oh, and Sella, Tildur, Mebla, and Feron. And Lord Vinn too. Only they could understand my joy. My dreams were sweet indeed until I felt Lord Boron squeezing my leg. I begged him to stop, but he gripped it in both hands and pressed hard. I awoke in the middle of the night with pain lancing my side. Throbbing cramps gripped my shorter leg, and I cried out in the dark. A candle was held to my sweating face. Kitra was terrified.

"Get Master Oin _now_," Otha said to an attendant at the door, and she rummaged through the dresser drawers for the liniment. I held my hand over my mouth to stifle the screams, but I felt like one side of my body was on fire. The poor dwarf must have run all the way because only minutes later, the gray-haired healer was trotting to the door.

"What is it?" he asked Otha. He must have looked over her shoulder to see me because I heard his gasp.

"Lass! Lass! What's wrong?" he asked urgently as he hurried to me.

"This one is the worst I've ever seen," Kitra said anxiously. Otha came up beside her with the bottle. It was half-empty.

"The worst of what?" he demanded.

Otha uncorked the bottle while Kitra pulled my sheets down and my gown up to expose my leg and side. The leg was rigid and couldn't be straightened. My hip had cramped as well, and I couldn't move for the pain.

"We called you, Master Oin, because we have no sedative for her here," Kitra said. "Nothing to relax the muscle cramps but this liniment, and it doesn't work well if we apply it too late."

She turned to her sister who had started to massage the liniment into my muscles. Her hands eased the pain slightly, but the liniment did nothing. Tears rolled down my cheeks. Master Oin sounded stunned.

"We should have rubbed her down after we came back," she said.

"She goes through this every day?" he asked. Then he started pulling bottles and salves out of his pouch. "It's because of the imbalance, isn't it? But balancing her stressed those muscles in a different way, I'll be bound."

A bottle clinked and he murmured his approval.

"Drink this, lass," he said gently. "It'll soothe your pain and put you back to sleep."

My teeth chattered as they tried to position me so I could swallow. I screamed silently when they gently sat me up. My eyes started rolling back in my head, but Master Oin patted my cheeks hard and grabbed my chin.

"One swallow," he commanded, "one swallow, and you'll feel better in a jiffy."

I closed my eyes and opened my mouth like a trout. He held my chin and Otha the back of my head. I was shaking so hard I could barely feel him pouring the liquid in my mouth, but I did my best to choke it down. I felt chill and heat burn my muscles, but Otha kept massaging, and little by little my leg and hip gave way. I started feeling drowsy, and it was bliss. Just before I drifted off, I heard Master Oin talking to my friends.

"She goes through this every night?" he asked, his tone disbelieving.

"Aye," Otha answered. "We heard from her maids at home that she was in agony every night unless she spent the day sitting quietly. But my lady's too curious to stay indoors."

"And she loves going outside because in brighter light she can see colors and shapes," Kitra added. "Why should she stay inside where she's truly blind? It pains her though, and she feels terrible about asking for help. It's almost as though she feels guilty for trying to see."

He grunted in sympathy, and then I felt a rough and callused hand stroking my hair and cheek.

"Sweet, lass," he mumbled. "Sweet, brave lass."

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><p>The next morning, I woke up stiff and sore but otherwise well. Otha guided my fingers to another bottle that Master Oin left.<p>

"This will keep your muscles relaxed during the day, my lady, but it won't make you sleepy," she said. Then she paused. "Master Oin really _is_ your friend now."

I nodded with a smile and got up to bathe. Then I put on my shoes. It seemed strange to walk into the bathing room wearing shoes and a towel, but it felt good to walk in steady. It wouldn't wear off, walking wouldn't. Not for a long time. Maybe not ever. I couldn't wait to see my friends again and walk toward them straight and tall. I imagined that their mouths falling open. I giggled to think of Tildur's eyes popping out or Feron's beard falling off.

After splashing around in the tub and stretching, I dressed in a burgundy gown. Kitra had described it to me, and I felt the neckline and patted it satisfied that I wouldn't expose myself at breakfast. Otha braided and twisted the hair above my ears and let the rest fall naturally. I ran it through my fingers. There was a lot of it, and it felt softer than it did at home. Kitra had given me several bottles and little pots with instructions to use a certain one first and then another one after. I wasn't sure what they were all for because I only had plain cakes of soap at home. I smelled good too. A light rose scent.

"How do I look?" I asked anxiously. I knew that King Thorin and Lord Balin would ask pointed questions on one side of the table while Father and Lord Boron might just answer them on the other. I knew they'd be shocked when they saw me, but I hoped that they'd at least keep their thoughts to themselves. To my surprise, Master Oin came to the door.

"I thought you'd like an escort to the breakfast, my lady," he said. He must have smiled. His voice just sounded like he was smiling. I beamed at him, and he chuckled.

"Why Master Oin, I'd be delighted!"

"Just Oin, my lady," he replied. "I'd be honored if you'd call me by my given name."

I nodded.

"Then just Areen, if you please. None of my friends call me princess."

He hesitated but then grunted his acceptance. Guiding my hand to the crook of his arm, he patted my wrist. Otha and Kitra fell in step behind us, and our little procession made its way to the dining hall. I told him my fears, and he told me that he'd do what he could to prepare father and Lord Boron.

"Let me handle this, lass," he said. "This old healer knows just what to say."

Just before we came to the door, Otha and Kitra hugged me close where no one could see.

"You can do this, my lady," Otha said. I tried to smile and took several deep breaths.

"Areen, Otha. Just Areen, Kitra. No more formalities. We're all in this together."

"Aye, my lady," Kitra said and then giggled at her mistake.

"That will take some getting used to, my … I mean Areen."

The sentry swung the doors open, and I heard chairs being pushed back to stand for me. Father gasped, but then someone quickly rounded the table. I didn't need to guess who.

"My lady, you look beautiful," Lord Boron said, "and so well recovered! Doesn't she look splendid, my lord?"

There was an audible silence that I knew couldn't continue for more than a second before King Thorin and his advisors would _know_ that we were hiding something. Oin stepped in to my eternal gratitude.

"Oh, aye, my lord," he said jovially. "She's much improved, and as long as she doesn't try to scale Erebor, she shouldn't have further problems."

There was general laughter at Oin's jest. I smiled and looked down as usual, but then Lord Boron took my other arm and tugged, so I had to let go of him. I smiled tightly and tried to pull away without anyone noticing, but he only tightened his grip.

"You must sit next to me and tell me what you've done since yesterday," he said. "I'm sure it was _fascinating_."

I acknowledged everyone's well-wishes and heartily hoped that Lord Boron would choke on a dry scone. He stuck to me like a leech, and I've always hated those slimy things. Perhaps they're distant relatives.

After pulling out my chair and insisting on seating me, Lord Boron fixed my plate.

"Is she not allowed to serve herself, Lord Boron?" Lord Balin asked with a definite edge to his voice.

Aye, the probing had begun. I only hoped it was with words and that I wouldn't have to submit to a search.

The leech froze in mid-bacon and chuckled nervously after he plunked the sweets basket in front of me.

"Ah, I have no children, my Lord, so perhaps I dote on her more than I should," he replied, no doubt with an abashed smile. Squat toad of a dwarf was my opinion.

"You're not old enough to have a child her age, Lord Boron," King Thorin too aptly observed.

This conversation was upsetting in a way that made me want to escape. Perhaps they had a garden here with bushes I could hide in—at least until the feast tonight. I felt outnumbered with only Oin, Otha, and Kitra to help me. But I forgot about my rescuer.

"Uncle Thorin, what does it matter?" Prince Fili wanted to know. "She sprained her ankle, he wants to help, so why make it an issue?"

Without waiting for an answer, he turned to me.

"I thank you for your good news last night, my lady," he said happily. "Ah, here they are now. My lady, this is Frerin."

I heard the papping of tiny feet against the stone and turned just in time to feel a small body ram into my legs.

"Oh!" Princess Della cried. "Frerin, mind your way!"

I shook my head and smiled to ease her mind.

"I'm not hurt," I said softly. "Hello, Frerin. I'm Areen. I've come a long way to meet you."

"Meet me?" he burbled jumping up and down.

Before I could answer, he tugged on my skirts and tried to climb into my lap. Without thinking, I hoisted up his heavy little body. He still had that sweet baby smell, and I inhaled and closed my eyes dreamily. Little children have the best smell in all the world, and I can never get enough of it. Then I felt him wrap his chubby arms around my head and press his nose into the corner of one eye.

"Frerin!" Prince Fili said with fond correction. "Stop that at once."

I waved him away and guided his son's small forehead to mine.

"I see you!" he said as he looked at me. Then he tried to suck on my cheek.

"I see you too!" I replied, secretly delighted have the diversion.

When I was done playing with Frerin, father was deep in discussion with Lord Balin while Princess Della was answering King Thorin's question about her health.

I tried to eat while the others were busy on other topics. The bacon and eggs were serviceable, but the breads were dry, and the scones pitiful. The raisins were like little rocks. The basket was almost full, meaning that most of the others had passed it by. I grimaced at the poor offering. If I had any time today for myself, I was heading to the kitchens.

"Good morning," I heard Prince Kili's voice say. All conversation stopped. I ducked my head but smiled slightly in greeting. As far as manners went, he needed to come to me and make amends, but I hoped to congratulate him later.

"Brother!" Prince Fili called out. "Feeling better?"

Prince Kili mumbled something about stomach pains but came over and apologized for his absence. I quelled the urge to tell him to take as long as he wanted—preferably for the next two months. Father made much about his appearing, but Lord Boron was silent. Prince Kili took the chair next to mine and ate some eggs while making little attempt at conversation.

"Are you feeling better, my lord?" I asked politely. I was trying to keep a straight face lest someone notice my delight at his ploy. Then again, they just might think I was flirting. It didn't matter. I was making it through breakfast, and if I could keep it up for six weeks all would be well. Then I heard King Thorin call Oin over.

"So Oin," Lord Balin started. They were talking softly, but I heard every word. "Is there anything else you'd like to tell us about your time with the princess?"

Oin made a noise in the back of his throat.

"Such as what?"

"Such as anything other than her ankle," King Thorin replied as though his patience had stretched parchment-thin.

"Areen is well and whole is all ways that matter," Oin replied firmly. "She's a lovely lass and the bravest I've ever known."

Then he excused himself to tend to other patients.

"In all ways that matter?" Lord Balin echoed. "What does that mean? The bravest I've ever known?"

King Thorin appeared to dismiss that for something else.

"He called her Areen, Balin, just Areen. What does that tell you?"

Balin made an apprehensive sound of understanding.

"It means that he's firmly on her side. How did she do that in such short time? And with one of our own? This isn't good, Thorin. We may have trouble with her being here if she's not what she seems."

His companion mumbled an incoherent thought.

"I don't see what she can do to us," he replied finally, "being such a quiet lass, but we need to watch her regardless."

Oh, that wasn't good. I thought quickly and decided to frequent all the places where royalty wouldn't go. I wanted to see the kitchens anyway, and I couldn't imagine King Thorin peeking through a closet door or Lord Balin hiding in a flour sack. I giggled a little at the thought.

"Is something amusing, my lady?" Prince Kili drawled.

I gasped in surprise. I had forgotten he was there. He sounded so pitiful that I couldn't resist a jest.

"Your advisors are planning on keeping an eye on me for some reason, and I imagined Lord Balin spying on me in the kitchens from a sack of flour."

He spluttered and choked on his eggs. I hoped he wasn't really in trouble, but then he coughed and chuckled with his head down. For the first time, I heard his natural voice.

"_That_ I'd like to see."

Prince Fili called from further down the table.

"Are you dying, brother?"

Before he answered, he turned to me.

"I just might from this food."

I smothered a giggle and kept my head down.

"I'm well, brother."

Then he stood, and I felt him take my hand and kiss it softly.

"I'd be honored with your company after the feast tonight, my lady."

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><p><strong>Now don't make too much of this. The plot does need to move forward after all. Please review!<strong>


	13. Chapter 13

**This chapter is for those who enjoy eating. Bon appetit!**

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><p><strong>Chapter 13<strong>

King Thorin and father decided to spend some time going over what dyes and herbs he and his people might want, and he asked that Fili and Kili join their discussions. It made sense, of course, for his heirs to be part of kingdom business.

Lord Boron—or Lord Bore-on, as I called him in private—sidled up to me after breakfast and suggested taking me around the kingdom like he had become an expert on Erebor since yesterday. My shoes seemed to have given him new energy, and he was obviously eager to ask me about them. Liver and onion breath blew in my face, and I couldn't help wincing. Maybe he wanted me to reveal my ally. It didn't matter what he wanted. I'd never tell on Oin, although anyone with eyes would guess it was him. Father saved me—what a thought!—at the last minute by commanding Lord Bore-on to join the meeting.

"I look forward to spending time with you later, my lady," he whispered. Mahal, did his lips touch my ear? My eyes started watering.

"Not likely," I replied, "since my _intended_ wants to spend time with me."

I never thought I'd hide behind Prince Kili, but liver and onions made up my mind.

Oin joined us outside the door.

"Areen," he said softly, "you need more liniment. I'll have a bottle sent up to your chambers at once. It'll be marked for Kitra."

Otha cleared her throat, and he gently squeezed my arm. Someone had joined us.

"My lady," Lord Balin said, "what do you plan to do for the rest of the day?"

I looked down and bit my lip. My day was already planned, but he couldn't know that.

"Do you have any suggestions, my lord?"

He came closer, and I stilled the urge to hide my face in Oin's neck. I heard my maids move in, and I flicked my eyes up and down. This shy act was getting tiresome after only three days. I hated having to hide not just my blindness but myself as well. Diplomacy was the art of lying politely, and I was never very good at it.

"We have lovely gardens on the lower slopes," he said genially, "and the art and sculpture galleries are spectacular. Much to admire there. I'd be honored to show you."

Ugh! That was the _worst _place I could possibly see. I smiled faintly at my own pun.

"It's settled then," he replied clapping his hands and rubbing them together. Not good. Not good at all, but I couldn't think of what to do. Then door opened, and King Thorin took his nephew's place as my noble rescuer.

"Balin," Kili said, "uncle wants you to join us."

My shoulders wanted to sag in relief, but I held myself upright, and I hoped that everyone else did too. That old dwarf was one quick codger, and he didn't stop assessing us until the door closed. Even then I bet he was listening behind it. Oin whispered for us to follow him, and we practically tip-toed away.

Otha and Kitra agreed heartily with my idea to visit the kitchens. I guess they didn't eat well either. I could feel myself losing plumpness, and I couldn't allow that lest those horrid necklines gape open. It would be a catastrophe if my bosom derailed negotiations. Ha! Then again, it might speed them along. Oin guided us partway and gave Otha directions for the rest.

"Mind Master Slif," he said. "He's prickly about others being in his kitchens and offends easily. You know how cooks are. Thorin Oakenshield may reign in Erebor, but Slif is king in the kitchens."

I smiled, but I didn't care how prickly he was. I was still hungry and that trumped prickly. I asked Kitra to get my bag of spices and herbs. A bribe was a better form of diplomacy when properly applied.

Once she came back with it, we headed to an upper level in the back. I suppose the kitchen was put there partly so the royal family and nobles were served first, but that didn't mean their food was better. Sometimes, letting food simmer and brown deepened the flavor. I had a feeling that the workers ate better than their king.

We walked up the stairs and turned the corner to hear an angry voice yelling at frightened voices in the room beyond.

"The eggs half-eaten and the breads basket barely touched. This is a disaster! Begone from my sight! I'll deal with you all later."

We ventured carefully toward the door and suddenly a pan—at least I thought it was a pan—hurtled by our noses and clanged against the wall.

"What was that?" I asked.

"A sauce pot," Kitra answered. She took my arm and started kicking other copper pots and pans aside. It seemed that most of his cookware had taken refuge in a little pile outside the door.

"How many?" I asked.

"Mmm, four pots, three pans, and three baking trays."

I set my face toward the source of noise. I imagined a small, stout dwarf with flame-red hair and a big, red nose on a big, red face. Even if his face wasn't usually red, it most certainly was now.

"Get out of here! Get out of _my_ kitchens! Who do you think you are barging in here?"

I remembered what Oin said about him but, really, this was taking it a bit far.

"Do I not look like a princess?" I mumbled out of the side of my mouth to Otha who squeezed my hand. I never cared much for rank since it never made anyone a better person but, in this case, I'd trot it out and give it some air.

Angry footsteps stomped our way.

"I _said_, stay _out!_"

Nope. Not happening. I stood as tall as I could and looked down where I felt an angry snort on my chin.

"I am the Princess Areen of the Grey Mountains, and if you want the feast tonight to be the triumph of your life then you will do as I say."

I thought the stones under his feet would crack from the heat he puffed out. Of course, he couldn't say what I was sure he wanted to, but I felt like I was facing a miniature Smaug. Maybe they used his breath to light the ovens.

"Your bread basket came down full, did it?" I asked quickly before he threw another pot. "How would you like that _never_ to happen again?"

The temperature dropped _maybe_ one degree. I waved my hand, and Kitra opened the bag and started pulling out spices wrapped in parchment. The fresh scent of rosemary filled the air. He took a step forward, and I heard him sniffing like a dog after a bone. A clatter told me that he had dropped whatever it was he had intended to throw.

"Master Slif," I said with a relieved exhale, "I'd be willing to share what I have if you'd let me lend a hand in your kitchens today."

Feet shifted from side to side, and I heard a strange sound like dry straw being rubbed together.

"What's that noise?" I whispered in Otha's ear.

"He's rubbing his eyebrows," Otha whispered back.

"Oh, my."

Of course, a princess in the kitchen was a breach of protocol, but no one would spy on me here. I rummaged in the bag and pulled out my secret weapon, a lumpy package. I unrolled it and held out a large bulb. Its pungent but tangy scent sent its tendrils under what I imagined were his abnormally large nostrils.

"What is _that?_" he whispered, both entranced and suspicious.

I waved it back and forth. I didn't imagine his lips smacking loudly.

"At home they call it the stinky rose, Master Slif, but when it's cut up and sautéed, it would make Mahal himself leave his realm for a bite."

No one moved, and I knew he was weighing his present humiliation against his pride of accepting help.

"Imagine the compliments of the royal family being whispered throughout Erebor," I said. "Why do you think King Thorin wants to trade with my people?"

He took a deep breath and grabbed my hand.

"Well, lass, what you doing just standing there?" he asked impatiently. "No time for loitering! We've work to do!"

We laughed and nodded happily. With my maids helping me, I was sure all would be well.

"What a splendid kitchen, Master Slif," Otha exclaimed. "I'm sure it's not your cooking skills that are the issue but rather not having the right supplies. Good spices are rare I'm sure because of Smaug."

Kitra's giggle told me that he preened like a plump pigeon.

"Oh, aye, lass," he said proudly. "Now just tell me what you have there."

Thick hands ushered me to the herbs table, and I hoisted the heavy bag on the top and unrolled the different packages. I heard his eager breath at both the quality and quantity of our wares. I swear he did a jig of glee.

"Oh! Oh! What is this? What is _that?_ Oh! So fragrant and fine. Where do we start, my lady?"

I was so carried away by the smells of home that I wasn't careful and made no attempt to appear like I could see. Kitra and Otha made their little signals, but I missed them. Suddenly, I heard a long, shuddering breath, and I knew it didn't come from us.

"You're _blind!_"

I noticed he didn't say, my lady. Not a good sign.

"Aye," I replied calmly, "from a fever when I was nine."

His hand slammed on the table.

"Weak blood to mix with our royal house! This is an outrage!"

"No! _Strong_ blood to survive when others died!"

His voice rose with contempt and outrage. His attitude wasn't new. Many others had thought the same long ago. I'd forgotten how horrible it made me feel.

"Cursed! Cursed by Mahal himself!"

Now I had had enough.

"Blessed! Blessed by Mahal to smell better than anyone in Middle Earth!"

There! I had done it. Now he would either throw me out the door or accept me. I bobbled the stinky rose before him.

"By the way, _cook_," I said with cool disdain, "you just burned your cream sauce."

With a yelp, he ran down the length of his kitchen to reach the hearth at the far end. I heard frantic noises, but I knew he couldn't save it. The burned flavor would carry through.

"Now it's your choice," I said. "Do you think I'm a curse or a blessing from Mahal himself to make you the most revered cook in history?"

I knew I was buttering the bread rather thickly, but I needed a safe place, and he needed my help. I heard him grumble and curse under his breath. He angrily rattled the chains that held his pots suspended over the fire.

"It clotted, didn't it?" I asked. "You put it too close to the fire."

His grumbling grew louder.

"I'm not a witch, Master Slif. I just like to eat. Surely, you can't fault me for that?"

At first I didn't hear anything, and then came those strange scratches again. He chuckled a little and sighed.

"Ach, my lady," he began, "Mahal's ways are above ours, so perhaps he did send you after all."

"Aye, well said, Master Slif," I applauded.

His thick and now gentle fingers guided me to a table.

"I'd be honored if you called me Slif, my lady," he said softly. "If you're going to help me in the kitchens, then you deserve to."

I nodded happily.

"Areen then, just Areen."

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><p>The rest of the afternoon we cooked and laughed and traded stories. It was wonderful, and I felt cozy for the first time since leaving home. Just put me in a kitchen, and I'll purr like a kitten.<p>

Not too much later, I was sure I was dusted with flour, and I felt something rough on my cheek. The kitchen smelled divine though.

"What do you have planned for tonight, Slif?"

He didn't answer at first, and I had to call him away from the oven.

"They're not done yet!"

A loud set of sniffs told me that he was rooted to the floor in front of the ovens.

"So you boil dried raisins and currents for just a minute or so to make them softer?" he asked wonderingly. "And you then add cream to the batter? Mmm, with fennel seeds at that. A little soda and hmmm."

I thought he'd float away to the Halls of Mandos on the aroma alone. He must have danced like a child before the oven door because Kitra admonished him to wait. Once the breads were done, he pulled them out with eager breaths. He must have crammed an entire cake into his mouth because I couldn't understand a word he said.

"Immortal!" he cried at last.

"What meats are you planning to serve?"

He led me over to a large roast. Otha brought me chopped herbs and a few cloves of the stinky rose mixed with a little oil to make a paste. I felt my way around the roast and made several deep slits. Slif made a noise of protest, but I explained that if he stuffed the slits with the paste and rubbed the rest on the outside, it would flavor the meat. Otha brought over a little of the paste mixed with oil, and I invited him to taste it with piece of bread. He savored it with little grunts of pleasure.

"I could die now a happy dwarf!" he marveled.

"And miss your praise?" I asked archly. He laughed and ate the rest. I don't think I got a bite, but I was too relieved to care.

Working together, we made all my favorites including mashed squash with butter and molasses, little cabbage spouts roasted with rosemary and stinky rose cloves, and cabbage with bacon. For dessert, we made a blueberry cake with cinnamon crumble topping, lemon and raspberry scones with lemon icing, and caramel apples.

"Be careful, Slif," I warned. "You could lose a tooth on one of those!"

"Oh!" Otha cried. "Look at the time!"

I was sure she wasn't talking to _me_, but I looked around anyway, trying to spot a clock in the dark.

"You must dress for the feast, Areen!" Kitra said.

I patted my cheeks, felt the dried batter, and was sure I looked a fright. Slif turned me around carefully and wiped my face with a warm cloth while my maids brushed off my dress and picked bits of dough out of my hair. I felt him pat my cheek.

"There, love," he said. "Back to a princess."

Then he took my hand.

"You need to tell them, but I understand why you're waiting."

He leaned his forehead against mine.

"Until then, I'll keep your secret, Areen."

I held his face.

"Thank you, Slif. That means the world to me."

Another voice broke in, and I mentally groaned.

"What secret?" Lord Balin asked.

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><p><strong>Garlic, that wonderful thing, was called the stinky rose and, when mixed with rosemary, basil, and olive oil, makes a wonderful dipping sauce. The raisins, cream, and fennel seed bread is a loose description of Irish soda bread. Can you tell <em>I<em> like good food? Happy Holidays and please review! They would be wonderful Christmas presents!**


	14. Chapter 14

**Hello again and welcome new readers. How lovely to have you with us. Everyone's thoughts and comments are welcome as we move forward!**

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><p><strong>Chapter 14<strong>

_"What secret?" Lord Balin asked._

Sigh. So, I guess they decided to spy on me from a sack of flour after all. Humph, now I had _nowhere_ to hide except the privy, and I wasn't even sure I'd be safe there. Would they have maids listening in and reporting back? How embarrassing! Grrr, this was getting ridiculous! No, this _was_ ridiculous! They should be spying on father and Lord Bore-on, Lord Boast-on, Lord Beast-on. I felt my cheeks getting hot, but I couldn't tell at first if the heat was from embarrassment or anger. Hmm, uh, huh, definitely anger. Otha and Kitra cleared their throats, but I ignored them. I turned to face Lord Balin, ready to speak my mind, when Slif stepped in front and bowed low. I heard his voice from somewhere close to the floor.

"My Lord Balin," he said, "what an honor. "The Princess Areen brought some spices as a gesture of good will but didn't want anyone to know. She was concerned they might be seen as a bribe."

_Liar._ It seemed like Erebor was stuffed with them. Father and Lord Boron should feel right at home. No, that was unkind and unfair. Oin and Slif were honorable, loyal, and wonderful. I was just angry and frustrated that they were on to me but not on to father and Lord Boron. That the Lord of the Grey Mountains—the one who's in _charge_ of me mind you—put me up to it hadn't crossed their minds. Why not? Did they think _I_ was the mastermind of this deceit? I supposed I should have been flattered, but it was too twisted to be funny.

"Ah," Lord Balin said slowly, "how thoughtful."

He didn't believe us. Distrust filled his undertone. What did they think I'd do? Poison the water supply or make off with treasure? I imagined myself hauling sacks of gold over my shoulders out the enormous gate while hiding the Arkenstone down the front of my dress. All in full view of King Thorin's armed guards. Laughable, really.

"My _lady_," Kitra said deliberately, "we must help you dress for the feast."

"Of course, Kitra, you're quite right," I replied graciously. "I musn't keep my lords waiting."

I turned to Slif, and he took my hands. We had spent such a wonderful, aromatic afternoon that I couldn't help myself and moved in to give him a hug. He must have felt the same because he rocked me like a young child.

"It's been my _very_ great pleasure, Areen," he said warmly. "You and your ladies are welcome in my kitchens anytime. Do visit again soon."

I smiled so wide that I thought I'd pushed my dimples against my ears. He was such a dear. I wouldn't have known that from my reception at the door, but I was delighted to find out different.

"It was my honor, Slif," I said while holding his caked hands. "I can't _wait_ for the feast," and we laughed together.

Lord Balin made a series of small hums, grunts, and mumbles while we talked. I've heard people make those noises when they were calculating sums, but I never heard anyone make them while someone else was talking. I guess what we said just didn't add up for Lord Balin. I didn't care. We marched out the door and turned the corner. I soon as Otha and Kitra told me we were out of earshot, I said what I wanted to—in a whisper, of course.

"Do they mean to follow me everywhere?" I asked. It was a rhetorical question. They were already following me everywhere. I only hoped they wouldn't be this bold when I was with Prince Kili. That would be too much. I remembered my efforts to control my temper and mouth at home, but everyone had their breaking point. I knew father's; I had no idea of Lord Boron's, and I was even doubtful of my own. Summer and Sky kept me in check, and I repeated their names like a charm every time I felt my temper rising.

We walked back to my chambers, so I could change. I was slightly embarrassed that I didn't have more gowns for evening wear, but I should be grateful that I had even two. I had no idea what King Thorin and his court expected.

"Do they wear different clothes every night?" I asked timidly. I know that father and his lackey brought at least two trunks full of clothes for themselves while I had only two day dresses, two blouse and skirt sets, and two evening gowns. Oh, and my split skirt for riding. That selection seemed pitiful compared to the magnificence the Durins and others must be wearing.

"Well," Otha said carefully, "they do have different combinations of clothes every evening, but not everything is different. King Thorin wore the same breeches but with different tunics."

Small consolation.

"But you have other clothes you can wear, Areen," Kitra said. "The porters just brought up a separate trunk that we thought belonged to Lord Boron."

That was a surprise and a relief. I felt like every word and every action was momentous and had to weighed carefully—something at which I was terrible. Here I was walking on a crust of frozen snow that might cave into the thick powder beneath at any moment. I loved walking on snow crusts at home where we'd bet how long we could walk atop before it collapsed. Feron, Mebla, Tildur, and I would laugh ourselves silly after we picked ourselves up, each of us looking like living snow dwarves from the drifts. What lay under the crust here though might be shards of ice that would slice me to pieces.

"What's in it?" I asked, now very curious.

Kitra and Otha unlocked the case, lifted the lid, and gasped.

"Oh, Areen!" Kitra said. "It's a beautiful, blood-red velvet gown. The design is gorgeous and so different from anything else I've seen."

They brought it to me, and I felt along the seams to the bodice. It felt strange, and I kept running my hands over it until I understood. The dress was designed like a peasant blouse with corset and flaring skirt, except it was all of one piece. The sleeves were full, and the deeply scooped neckline had a satin drawstring with an open keyhole slit in the front. The bodice was designed to make the most of my bust with the fullness taken up by the corset below.

"I don't see how I can wear my under-corset with this dress," I said doubtfully. "The shoulders are almost to the edge. This dress is much less structured. Will it look improper, do you think?"

They didn't answer. Kitra reached back into the trunk and gasped.

"Oh, Areen!" she cried. "What a beautiful satin nightgown."

She handed it over, and I felt the sleek fabric slip through my fingers.

"There's three!"

"What colors?" I asked. Where on Middle-earth did these come from?

"One's pure white," Kitra replied breathlessly, "another is red, and the third is black."

I blushed to my hairline. One was obviously for my wedding night and the others for days after. Mother must have had this packed, but I couldn't figure out how she paid for it. I knew she didn't have the household funds for such extravagance, not when so many were going hungry.

"There's more!" Otha exhaled, and I heard the rustle of fabric and clink of metal. "Oh!"

"What? What is it?"

"A blood-red ruby on a gold chain," Kitra said.

Now I was confused. Who would have done this? Lord Vinn? No, he didn't have such tastes. Father was out of the question. I doubted now that mother arranged it.

"We must get you dressed now, Areen," Otha said firmly. "It's nearly time."

By the time I was dressed, it was too late to change. Otha and Kitra both said I looked wonderful, but I could tell that _wonderful_ meant something different than it usually did. I patted myself all over and sucked in my breath. I remembered seeing a barmaid once, and she wore a similar outfit where the sleeves nearly fell off her shoulders. Her bosom was clearly outlined under her thin blouse.

"Do I look like a … a, you know?" I couldn't get the words out.

"It's not indecent," Otha said firmly. "The velvet is heavy. You aren't used to playing up your assets is all."

I shivered in this monstrosity. Playing up my assets was the _last_ thing I wanted to do. I never wanted to be looked at, never wanted to be noticed. I had no defense against someone leering at me. I had no way of knowing and so no way to stand up for myself. Would everyone at the feast know that I wore no under-corset and that my bust wasn't supported? I closed my eyes in humiliation. Mother would never have done such a thing, but I couldn't be late and insult the king.

"Can you tell?" I asked. "Can you see my, uh, too much of me?"

They both said no but, after seeing my devastation, Kitra stepped up and pulled the lacing as tight as she could. She almost but not quite closed the keyhole opening where my cleavage showed through clearly. I felt up to my shoulders and pulled the sleeves closer to my neck. Then I pulled the dress up to cover more of my bosom. I hoped it wouldn't slide down during dinner, but it was the best I could hope for. Otha adjusted a wrap around me. My eyes must have shown my relief because she gave me a quick hug. They pulled out the braids and left most of my hair in loose waves. They kept the twin braids at my temples in honor of the Durins.

"You do look wonderful without the wrap, not at all improper," she said, "but we won't have you feeling uncomfortable."

I nodded gratefully. I stood quietly while she put the necklace on, and then I pulled up the front of the dress again. They escorted me to the hall, whispering words of encouragement. The doors opened, and I stepped in and smiled brightly. I heard nothing, _nothing_. Was the feast moved to another chamber? Then I heard some rustling, and I stood there mortified with my cheeks flaming and still smiling like an idiot. All at once I heard an explosion of sound, and everyone talked at once. Various lords introduced themselves and gave their best wishes. Prince Fili called out his compliments and teased his brother by saying that his mouth hit the floor when I walked in. Little Prince Frerin said, "Pincess Reen!" Lord Balin and King Thorin seemed to resume whatever conversation they were having while Della gushed over my harlot dress. Father grunted, but I wasn't sure why.

"Princess Areen, you look just marvelous," Lord Boron exclaimed, "but you must be too warm in that wrap. Here, let me take that for you."

He stood and approached me, but someone cut him off.

"My lady," a steady voice said, "may _I_ escort you to your seat?"

It was Prince Kili, and I was ever so glad. I heard Lord Boron huff—probably from embarrassment at being one-upped by my somewhat fiancé. I smiled widely at the gallant prince and was surprised to feel his hand at my back as he ushered me to my seat.

"I thank you, my lord," I said quietly. Inside I was thrilled at being free of that toad. If he touched me again with his sweaty fingers, I swore I'd wipe my hands on my skirt in front of everyone.

I heard a quiet exhale and a sense of hesitation. Then I felt him lean closer.

"Lord Boron seems a bit too attentive for your taste, my lady," he replied. "I don't want you feeling put upon or uncomfortable in my house."

Well, that was surprising! I gave a happy sigh and was rewarded by a low chuckle.

"But he isn't wrong, my lady," he said with his head close to mine, "you _do_ look marvelous."

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><p>Thorin and Balin conferred at the head of the table with their elbows almost touching.<p>

"He not only let her in his kitchens, Thorin," Balin said in a hushed voice, "but he allowed her to stay and cook with him! She called him Slif, and he called her Areen! I've never heard the like. He's never, and I mean never, allowed anyone to share his space before now since old Nimrin died. Besides, what princess would stoop to cook in the kitchens? _And_ he said he'd keep her secret, and I could tell it _wasn't_ about herbs."

Thorin stroked his beard. She was strange, this Princess Areen. Without doing or saying much, she seemed to command the loyalty of everyone around her. Oin first and now Slif. Thorin shook his head in confusion. Both those dwarves were loyal to the bone to the House of Durin. He knew it beyond a doubt. When then caused Slif to act so unlike himself?

He looked over to see Kili whispering to her. He watched for awhile with his lips pressed together tightly. Perhaps bringing her here was a bad idea after all. The merchants all spoke of her like she was a delightful bouquet of wildflowers, but she seemed now like a creeping vine that could break apart rock if given enough time. Her entrance tonight struck the dwarrow dumb. Whomever made that dress had designed it to showcase her every curve in a natural way and not in the stiff and formal manner of most court dress. Her hair fell around her in heavy waves, and her braids matched his own. He shifted uncomfortably. Was she there to influence negotiations in her favor? He took a long drink of cold ale.

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><p>The door opened again, and servers came through with platters that had everyone exclaiming with delight at the aromas. I was so excited that I forgot my worry about my dress. Slif must have arranged the food beautifully too because I heard a number of lovely comments about how it looked. I sniffed the air and clapped with joy at his triumph. I imagined all the praise he'd receive, and I bit my lip in happy anticipation of a glorious dinner. This time I could eat in blissful peace. No one spoke much after the food was served, but I wasn't nervous. All I heard were the happy grunts and moans of dwarves chewing, scraping their plates, and passing platters back and forth. All Slif's dishes were praised, and I was particularly gratified to hear King Thorin ask for a fourth helping of the roast.<p>

"By Durin, uncle," Prince Fili said with a satisfied air, "I don't remember _ever_ eating this well. I think we should bring Slif up here to tell him."

King Thorin agreed and sent a servant to fetch him. Then Lord Balin turned and addressed the assembly.

"Perhaps we should thank Princess Areen as well since she spent the afternoon in his kitchens," he said with a questioning tone in his voice.

The room erupted with shocked exclamations.

I dropped my eyes and exhaled sadly at the general outburst. My stomach went sour as I listened to the comments of the various lords. Most were just surprised at first, but they voiced their disapproval soon enough. This time, father wasn't quiet.

"What have you done?" he criticized from his place.

I tried to answer, but I choked on my tears.

"Answer me!" he yelled. "Answer me, you foolish child!"

I was sure that Lord Balin didn't intend to cause a scene, or at least not the scene that was rapidly developing, but it was too late despite his efforts to tamp it down. Advisors and lords all weighed in with their exalted opinions of my unseemly behavior. Weighed in _loudly_. Just then a servant announced Slif, and he walked through the door to pandemonium. King Thorin must have put up his hands because the room quieted quickly.

"Slif," he began, "I called you up here to congratulate you on your exquisite fare this evening. I don't know when we've eaten so well, and I thank you on behalf of all here."

The grumbling reduced to hushed whispers. Slif bowed low and expressed his gratitude for the king's favor, but it was obvious that he had heard enough outside the door.

"My lord," he said carefully, "_I_ must thank the Princess Areen for her gift of spices and herbs from the Grey Mountains. She gave them to me in thanks for preparing extra food for her people and even shared some recipes that would make her father and Lord Boron feel more at home. My king, I've never seen finer herbs and spices in all my life, both in quality and variety. If you come to an agreement with her father, then I can swear that you'll eat this well for the rest of your life."

Dead silence filled the hall. I tried not to sniffle and ignored the tears in my eyes. Footsteps came closer, and Slif took my hand and bowed so that his forehead touched it.

"My lady, I have a gift for you outside if you'll permit me."

I smiled tightly and allowed him to take my arm and leave the room. He pulled me away into the next hall and hugged me. I burst into tears and sobbed on his shoulder.

"They follow me, Slif, they follow me and will twist everything I say and do. I can't live here, and I can't leave. They hate me; they _hate_ me! _And_ I ruined your big moment!"

He patted my shoulder and lifted my chin.

"Now, none of that. You didn't ruin anything, lass," he said kindly. He lent me his handkerchief, and I blew my nose. "No one hates you. They know you're hiding something, and you are, so you can't fault them there. King Thorin is a good and honorable dwarf, but he's also protective and careful. You can hardly blame him now, can you? Not where his family's concerned anyway. Besides, you've fought and won bigger battles, Areen. Now buck up, lass, and go back in there like the general of an army. Soon enough they'll come 'round."

He walked me back to the door. Something had shifted in the meantime, and we heard two strong voices shouting the others down. He chuckled and rubbed his brows. I had the sound down pretty well by then.

"Well, general," he said with amusement, "I believe your captains have declared themselves."

We weren't embarrassed to listen in at the crack.

"How _dare_ you treat a guest of ours so disrespectfully?" Prince Fili shouted. "_And_ after the best feast of our lives!"

Slif rubbed my back as I pushed away a new round of tears.

"There, lass, there. You see? It'll be all right."

Then we heard Prince Kili.

"I don't care if she goes down there every day if she chooses," he called out to the rest. "It's my concern now, not yours! Not _ever!_"

We heard pounding footsteps heading for the door and quickly moved away. Prince Kili came storming out and walked up to me.

"I apologize, my lady, for the behavior of my people," he said. Then he made a noise of concern, and I felt a finger touch my still-wet cheek. "I'm truly sorry. They had no right."

I nodded and tried to smile. I appreciated his support more than I could tell him, but I was still worried about the reaction of one dwarf in particular.

"I think it's time we talk, my lady," he said, and he took my hand. "We have some lovely gardens that are peaceful in the evening, and I think we could use some of that now."

Slif hummed his approval and turned to leave, but the prince stopped him.

"You should have been honored tonight, Slif, but I won't let it pass and neither will uncle," he said. "He wants to speak to you now and give you your due."

Slif bowed again and went back inside. Prince Kili pulled on my arm, but I held fast.

"My father?" I asked fearfully. "He … he…."

Prince Kili turned and held me by my shoulders. I wouldn't look him in the eye even if I had my sight. It was too humiliating.

"Don't fear, my lady, Balin is trying to smooth everything over. I don't know what he intended by all this, but after we talk and I take you to your chambers, I'm going to find out."

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><p><strong>Please review!<strong>


	15. Chapter 15

**Oh, my goodness! Your response to this story is thrilling! Thank you so much! I try to respond to everyone in person, and I always love hearing from readers, so type away! If you haven't heard from me yet, you will!**

**To 2002Cinderheart: I'm not sure what you meant about me making the story easier to read, but I'd be happy to answer any questions you have. ****Things are now in motion, and everyone will find out a little bit more. Have fun, and a safe and Happy New Year!**

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><p><strong>Chapter 15<strong>

Thorin looked around at the empty room and sighed. His own nephews had more honor and manners than he did at that moment. Balin meant well but had gone too far. He should have stopped it, stopped it much sooner than he did. They were _so_ convinced that Princess Areen had some dire secret that they tried to shame her into revealing it. While the others kept their faces close to their plates and shoveled in the deliciously spiced and succulent food, he had watched her carefully when she wasn't looking. She seemed so happy at the beginning of the feast and genuinely enjoyed the food. Each dainty mouthful was followed by the slightest shiver of her shoulders. Her eyes closed while she chewed like a kitten lifting its face to the sun. Thorin watched enthralled. He'd never seen anyone take _that_ much pleasure in a meal. Then again, he'd never eaten so well. If that was what she ate everyday at home, then he could well understand her reactions.

Despite her obvious delight though, she reserved her largest and most excited smile for Slif. He had cocked his head and watched her face light up in anticipation of praise for the not-quite-yet cook. She seemed sincerely happy for him. Despite his doubts, he couldn't help a small smile playing about his mouth. Then Balin's words extinguished her joy like fingers pinching a wick. Her head dropped, and Thorin swore he saw her eyes filling with tears. She sat quietly through the barrage and didn't say a word in her defense. He leaned his mouth on his fist, waiting for some anger, some defiance, _something_ that might give her away, but nothing. Nothing except deep sorrow and mortification.

Slif knew it too. Thorin wagered that there wasn't any gift waiting outside the door. He wanted to take her away from her humiliation with as little fuss and as much grace as possible. She stood elegantly and left quietly with insults following her out the door.

Thorin groaned and put his hands over his eyes. Fili told Della to take Frerin to bed and rounded the table. He and his brother stood side by side furiously defending her. Somehow she'd gained two more allies, but this time their uncle was the one who pushed them firmly into her camp. They would have stood against any who dared treat a lady or guest in such a fashion as would he had he not given into his suspicions.

"That didn't go the way we thought, did it?" Balin said out the side of his mouth, his face sagging with regret.

Thorin shook his head. What was most painful was her father's response. The Lord of the Grey Mountains did nothing to defend his daughter but instead denounced her with the others. Was he only embarrassed or did he treat her like that always? His stomach turned at the possibility. If so, then perhaps her _father _ordered her to keep the secret if there even was one. He dragged his hand down his face slowly. Whatever the truth was, the night was an utter disaster, and he could only blame himself. He, Thorin Oakenshield, demanded that she leave her home only to be insulted and tormented in his. His lifted his weary eyes to face his angry nephew.

"Would you both care to tell me what _that_ was about?" he asked with his hands on his hips. "Uncle, how could you? What do you suspect her of that you'd treat her that way? I'm ashamed—ashamed!—of our house." Then he aimed his sharpest barb. "If I were her I'd leave as fast as I could with the next caravan—any caravan. I might just join her with Della and _Frerin._"

Balin held up his hands in surrender.

"We erred, lad," he said to Fili's angry face. "Aye, we did. She's keeping some secret, and we tried to rattle her tonight, but it was inexcusable for us to do what we did, and we're sorry—aren't we, Thorin?"

He nodded. She _was_ keeping something from them, but it was nothing compared to what they had just done. Besides, h_e_ had things of his own that he preferred to keep to himself. Perhaps she was entitled to her secrets—as long as they didn't hurt Kili or his kingdom.

"I'll go and apologize," he said heavily. "She deserves it."

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><p>Holding my arm fast to his side, Prince Kili led me across a corridor and down a narrow flight of stairs. I felt my leg cramp even more, but I tried to act calmly even though I wanted to collapse in a heap and cry myself to sleep wherever I dropped. I couldn't bear another night like this one. If this was going to be their treatment of me every night, then I hoped Feron would come sooner than he promised.<p>

I felt Prince Kili squeeze my hand like he felt my turmoil. My flayed nerves sent little jolts of nausea to my stomach. We'd never been alone before, and my maids could only go with me so far before they had to return to my chambers and prepare them for the evening. He stopped and whispered a few words of Khuzdul. A small door opened, and I felt a blast of warm air filled with the blended scents of flowers. My nose led me the rest of the way. Roses. Daisies. Gardenias. _Lilies. _Ah_, _smells of the meadows of home_. _He must have heard my excited breath because he laughed and walked me over to a bench. Otha and Kitra bade me goodnight and left. I was grateful for the darkness and sat on my hands to keep from fidgeting. Then another cramp stung my thigh. I pushed on my leg with one hand to try and knead it out. He must have lit several oil lamps nearby because I heard the _pfft_ of matches being struck. They wouldn't help me see, but I could find my way well enough by using the scent of the flowers to guide me back out.

"Does this please you, princess?" he asked.

I could tell he had relaxed, and I sighed in relief. It was a _most_ welcome change.

"Areen, my lord," I said. "I'm not worthy of my title."

He snorted with surprise.

"What makes you think that?"

Then he caught himself.

"If you think that tonight shows what my people think of you …."

I ran my hands over my face.

"It does, doesn't it? But it hardly matters now. I thank you though for standing up for me."

He patted my hand.

"You've done nothing for me to act otherwise."

Was it my imagination, or did the air turn a tad chilly? Perhaps it was the icy grip of guilt. I couldn't imagine what else could go wrong, but I had a horrible feeling that tonight was just the beginning—at least until Feron came. That father reveled in my public flogging wasn't new, but it just added to the crushing weight in my heart. That Lord Boron tried to defend me—even though no one paid attention—made matters worse.

We sat awkwardly. Neither of us spoke for a few minutes, and then he cleared his throat.

"I must be honest with you … Areen," he said as though he had to force the words out, "I resented uncle bringing you here without asking me. He's been wanting me to marry, but I …."

"Don't want to?" I finished for him. "At least not to someone who's forced on you."

I felt him twisting to find a comfortable position and tried to ease his mind. I owed him that after he stood against the king to help me.

"I knew that from the moment I met you, and I'm grateful that you've treated me well in spite of it."

He jerked with surprise.

"How could you tell?" he asked with youthful curiosity.

I giggled. It was so obvious that he might as well have shouted it from the mountain's peak.

"Your first words to me were filled with such resentment that it leaked out and made puddles on the floor."

He gasped and then laughed loudly.

"I suppose they were," he said with good humor. "And you? What do you think of this?"

I sat quietly and tried to gather my thoughts, but they ran faster than I could catch them. If I couldn't be honest about my leg and eyes, I would darn well be honest about everything else.

"I came because father ordered me to," I started, "so I'm in the same position as you. I thought though that marrying you might secure help for my people because they're in need. Father made some unsound investments, so we need this trade agreement. But you don't want me here. No, don't deny it. I understand. Lord Vinn's son Feron offered to take me away and marry me if this didn't work out, so I'll be cared for by someone who loves me. We've been best friends since we were children, so don't worry for me."

There it was, my whole ugly situation. I just hoped that Prince Kili wouldn't think father as unfit as he was. He seemed deep in thought.

"I see," he said slowly. "So he is coming for you. When? When the first shipment comes?"

I nodded.

He hummed.

You and your father …" he began, trying to be sensitive.

"He hates me," I said bluntly. "I'm a great disappointment to him, my lord."

He must have shaken his head because I heard hair swishing.

"Just Kili … Areen. Why does he hate you?"

I was past caring what anyone thought of me at that point. Sky and Summer, Sky and Summer. I still had to be careful, but one day … one day I would let it all go. I only hoped I'd rage at some rock or poor, unfortunate bush.

"Mother lost many babes, and he hardened his heart as time went by. I had some, uh, troubles when I was born, so he rejected me as well."

I heard the swish again.

"That's silly," he said incredulously.

"Not to him," I answered flatly, "and he's let me know _every_ day of my life."

Then I heard the sound of the door opening quietly. I couldn't tell if it was just well-maintained or if someone wanted to remain unheard. Too bad. I heard him.

"Someone else is here," I said dully. "Again," I muttered under my breath.

I felt Kili whip around.

"Who's there?" he called out sharply.

We were rewarded—if one could call it that—by a deep voice answering, the voice of the king.

I jumped to my feet and curtsied. At least he wasn't hiding in the hydrangeas.

"Uncle? What are _you_ doing here?"

A _very_ reasonable question, I thought. But, of course, I already knew the answer.

Kili stood and asked to speak to the king alone. They went off into the bushes—a thought that would make me laugh if the night hadn't been so horrible—and talked or rather Kili talked.

"Why did you deliberately demean Areen like that, uncle? What a _wonderful_ start you've made for us! She's leaving as soon as her best friend comes with the first shipment, and I wouldn't blame her if she hid in her chambers until then."

I heard the king ask who "he" was, and Kili answered inpatiently. Then I heard their footsteps coming toward me, and I cringed.

King Thorin stood in front of me and said nothing. The light was poor for him as well, but I felt his eyes studying me, perhaps trying to figure me out. That must have been his reason for staring at me so long. I stood firm.

He took a deep breath. It felt like he had just sucked all the air out of the garden. Then he surprised me by taking my hand and placing a very soft kiss on it. His hairy face tickled my hand. I itched to grab his beard and yank hard, but I ducked my head instead.

"My lady, I want to apologize for what happened tonight," he said formally. "Lord Balin never intended to cause you discomfort, and I regret not stepping in sooner. I should have. I'm deeply sorry that you were treated so badly. It _won't_ happen again."

I nodded, but I didn't believe him for one minute. I was sure that he only said what he did to placate Kili—or his brother. I kept my head down, but the words I wanted to say were ready to fly. _So, my lord, are you going to have people taking notes while I bath? Is everything I eat going to be categorized? How are you planning on picking through my toothbrush? Are your people going to examine my undergarments? Do you have your roster set for who's going to hide underneath my bed each night? Might I have my maids back after you interrogate them? _

Instead, I curtsied again and mumbled all the right and rote things someone says to a king. I was too hurt for it to sound sincere. I felt his gaze on me again. Then he surprised me once more.

"I'll leave you two now," he said. He stepped away and then turned back. "You _do_ look _most_ beautiful tonight, my lady," he added softly.

His voice made me shiver. Then he left and somehow took the vitality of the garden with him. I imagined him being one with the mountain and the mountain one with him. They gave and took from each other. If I had my sight, I was sure I would look around and see the flowers drooping slightly and their color fading. He was formidable and, suddenly, I believed Oin's words. Lightning and fire.

I couldn't take anymore. Too much emotion, too much pain of all kinds. I sat again tired and defeated. I felt another stinging cramp and shifted slightly. Prince Kili sat quietly beside me.

"Do you know why Balin said what he did?" he asked at last.

I sighed, unwilling to answer.

"I need you to tell me, Areen," he said. "Something's going on here, and I don't understand it."

I felt him reaching for my hand. He started playing with my fingers. It felt nice and safe. I was reminded of Feron.

"Truce?" he asked. "Friends at least?"

My shoulders dropped. I could do that. He'd been nothing but sweet to me.

"Yes, friends."

He sat, half-turned toward me in expectation, and I told him what I could.

"Your uncle is having me followed because he suspects me of having some secret, and he's right. My birth left me with some struggles that father was afraid would make me unsuitable and therefore threaten the trade agreement."

I felt him rock back and forth slightly like he was thinking through my words.

"Such as?"

"For one thing, my leg and hip hurt me when I walk too much."

He hummed again.

"Are they hurting now?"

"Yes," I said. He heard the exhaustion and pain that I couldn't hide anymore and took a deep breath.

"Let's get you to your chambers then before it gets worse. Uncle will help us."

What? Not on my life! I'd rather crawl up the stairs on my hands and knees than let him touch me again. I knew I was being unforgiving, but I hurt too much to be anything else.

"I'd rather he didn't, Kili," I said. My voice wavered from waves of pain. "Is there no one else you can get?"

He helped me stand, and I hobbled to the door.

"He's not what you think, Areen," he said. "He made a mistake tonight, a _big_ mistake, but …"

I huffed.

"_But,_" he countered calmly, "but only because he loves me and is protective of his family and his people. He truly is wonderful in so many ways and would die for those he loves."

I didn't say so but, really, was that so special? _I'd _die for those I loved. Wouldn't _everyone_ die for those they love? I noticed that Kili didn't list _kindness_ as one of his gold-plated qualities.

Happily for me, Oin was outside the door waiting.

"Aye," he said, "I knew it. Otha told me that you didn't get what you needed before the feast and that the bottle wouldn't be enough."

Then Slif came running up.

"Come, lass," he said _kindly_, "Kitra told me you'd need help."

Oin patted Kili on the shoulder.

"We'll take it from here."

Kili stood his ground and wouldn't let go of me.

"No, she told me she's in pain, and I want to help. We're friends now, and I want to help."

I could tell that Oin and Slif were weighing what I might have told him.

"Well," Oin said after a moment, "Mahal knows she needs them. Let's get her up the stairs then."

Working together, they got me to my chambers. Otha opened the door and saw the agony on my face. I started shaking with pain as my leg stiffened.

"We're ready, Oin," she said.

Slif must have urged Kili to the door because I heard his voice far away.

"Does she go through that _every_ night? _Why?_"

Slif answered quietly.

"Because she wants to live, my lord. But if she hasn't told you the cause, then I won't betray her confidence. On my honor though, she's the fiercest and bravest lass I've ever known."

That was the last thing I heard before I succumbed to my nightly torment.

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><p><strong>Please review!<strong>


	16. Chapter 16

**Lady Syndra wanted a little more detail of Areen's struggles at night, so here's a taste. They are, unfortunately, modeled on my own experiences of struggling with chronic pain. Botox and Imitrex are my liniments and sedatives and are wonders for chronic migraines and nerve damage, btw. I didn't realize this when I first started writing this story, but there are a number of personal parallels. Hmm, first person, hmmm. Loves good food, hmmm, loves being outside, hmmm, can't sit still, hmmmm, loves exploring, hmmm, eyesight is poor without glasses, hmmmm. Oh, well. Think I'm going out for lunch today!**

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><p><strong>Chapter 16<strong>

Ugh. I felt terrible. Usually, after about an hour or so of grinding, stuff-fist-in-mouth-to-stop-screaming pain, the massaging, liniment, and sedatives worked to help me relax to a point where I could fall asleep. It was never a deep, luxurious sleep though. It was a light sleep where every sound, every twitch jerked me awake. I'd scan the dark, looking something moving as if I could. My sleep was an inch thick and ready to be disturbed for the smallest thing, although some nights I was blessed with a few hours of true slumber. I woke up sore, and my head ached from a clenching tightness in my jaw. Throughout the night, I kept stirring, never able to sleep for long. My nightgown was damp with sweat. Inching around and patting my mattress, I kept moving to find a dry spot. My dreams had me back at the dining hall with dwarves crowding around me and slapping at me while I tried to defend myself. Kili and his brother shouted and struggled to get to me while King Thorin stood up and laughed in that big, booming voice from the throne room. Father and Lord Balin heated pokers to jab me in my back, arms, and legs. Lord Boron was doing something I couldn't see. I didn't want to.

I woke up gasping in a little ball with my hands over my ears. Struggling to sit up, I felt hands on me, and I cried out.

"It's us, Areen," Otha implored, "just us."

Kitra tried to soothe me and told me that she'd draw me a nice, hot bath. I couldn't help it, I started crying. I felt like the fool they made me out to be. Even though Kili was so kind and King Thorin actually apologized—probably his first _ever_—my dreams erased all that. It was another little joke of nature, but my dreams were often more real than my day-to-day life because in my dreams I can see. When I was younger, I dreamed I was exploring the meadows and mountainside with my friends. We played a merry band of minstrels and rolled in the sweet grass like puppies. No one was hungry, and we ate more sweets than we could hold but never got sick. A fat troll with several stomach folds sat on father, keeping him out of my way. Those dreams made my life bearable when I first went blind.

Later, I dreamed that a handsome dwarf galloped through our gates on a glossy, black pony and stormed up to the keep, demanding to talk to father. I looked supremely beautiful with my hair braided around my head and falling into a thick and intricate plait down my back. I wore a dark blue, silk gown with a wide neckline that showed off my long neck and perfect shoulders. A small but matchless sapphire winked at my throat. My skin looked wonderful—not one blemish. I almost glowed in the light of the wall torches. His soft gaze met mine, and I saw such love, such yearning on his face that tears glittered in our eyes. He panted for me, his chest heaving with passion, and he held up his hand to stop father's ranting while keeping his smoldering eyes on mine. Ascending the stairs, he bowed before me, took my hand, and kissed it. Then he swung me up into his arms, marched me down the stairs without losing his breath, mounted his pony with me in his arms, and rode away without a backward glance. He smelled good too.

However, that was not _this _morning, and all I wanted to do was slip underneath the bath and soak in the hot water until Erebor fell with the end of time.

"You _must_ show your face, Areen," Otha _almost_ lectured. "You can't show weakness."

Huh. How like father even though she was right. I stepped out of the sudsy water and dried off my dumpy self.

"Am I pretty?" I asked suddenly. Usually, I didn't care, I mean, it didn't make any sense to care at home. There everyone had known me since I was born, and they either liked me or not. But here, here any advantage would be helpful. Especially now.

Silence.

Well, _that_ wasn't a good sign. Perhaps that was my answer then. I shrugged like I didn't care and that it wasn't any more important than asking after the weather.

"No," Kitra said at last.

Just grand to have it confirmed!

"No," she repeated while I ground my teeth, "you're not_ pretty,_ you're far beyond that. You are _lovely._"

I'm not ashamed to say that I teared up again.

They chose my new morning dress to give me courage. Lord Vinn gave it to me as a leaving-forever present. It was blue like a robin's egg. The material felt so soft, and it swished around me when I walked. Feron told me after I tried it on that I looked like I was walking in the sky. It also covered me in all the places I cared about but didn't feel too formal either. I remembered running my hands over it when I opened the box. Lord Vinn chuckled warmly at the stunned look on my face, and Mebla squealed. My eyes must have been the size of dessert plates.

"My, my," he had said, "have you ever seen such eyes?"

Tildur laughed and said I looked like an owl.

Otha and Kitra spent a lot of time braiding my hair. A thick braid around the top of my head acted like a crown, and then they braided the rest tightly to my head, moving downward until the rest of my hair was braided into a single, thick plait. My hair was so long that it almost touched the small of my back. I asked for Feron's bracelet. They also brought me a short strand of large pearls with a pendant of a cut gemstone the same color as the dress. That was a gift from our honest nobles. I never would have accepted it, but they said that King Thorin had been extremely generous and that this was to remember them by. So in a way, King Thorin bought me that necklace. I almost took it off.

Someone knocked on the outer door, and I thought I heard the _tsk _of a grimace. Otha yanked my hair a little too tightly while muttering that if Lord Boron showed up again, she'd step on his toes so hard they'd fracture.

"He came last night?" I whispered horrified.

"Aye," she whispered back. "Don't ever let him get you alone, Areen. There's just _something_ about him."

Ha! There was just _something _about nearly everyone here. There was just _something_ about King Thorin, just _something_ about Lord Balin, and just _something_ about the nobles here. Erebor had more just _somethings_ of _some _kind than anyplace I'd ever been—not that I'd been far. I filled my cheeks with air and blew it out with a pop. Kitra came back.

"It's Prince Kili," she said giddily. "He wants to escort you to breakfast."

I wasn't ready in more ways than one.

"He said he'd wait, Areen. What do I tell him?"

Mahal, my dress was laid out on the bed, and I didn't even have my stockings on yet.

"Ah, please tell him that I'm very grateful but that I needed to sleep a little longer, and I'll be down soon. I can't have him waiting, Kitra. He'll understand that I need more time."

She ran back to the door. I heard a low voice answer hers and then she came back.

"He says he wants to walk you through the doors."

I couldn't help but smile, and I was glad that we got as far as being friends. Some never get even that far. I even felt the stirrings of fondness. Yes, I could like this Prince of Durin very much.

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><p>Kili paced in the dining hall, checking the door every few minutes. His brother and Della watched him with increasing amusement. Little Frerin bounced on her knees.<p>

"Waiting for your lady love?" he asked.

Kili turned to his brother and snorted. He looked quite handsome in a dark green doublet and black breeches. His brown eyes flashed with anger.

"We decided to be friends first," he said shortly, "but I'll be an elf before I let her or any lady suffer any more insult than has she already."

Fili nodded unhappily, and Della rolled her eyes. They'd never seen such a display, and both were unhappy that King Thorin allowed it to go as far as he did. He must have had a good reason—he always did—but if he had wanted to find out something, he'd gone about it badly, very badly.

"True enough. Whatever got into Balin?"

Kili scowled and paced with more energy.

"Uncle thought she had some dark secret," he said with disgust, "so he had her followed. Balin saw her in the kitchens with Slif and thought it was suspicious. Perhaps they figured she meant to poison us."

"The only thing suspicious is how Slif ever got to stay on as cook," Fili joked. He straightened up under their glares.

"He's doing the best he can, Fili," Della said. "It isn't his fault that Dwelf died before he could train him properly."

Fili nodded contritely. Dwelf was head cook, having served the Durins in Ered Luin, but his untimely death just a month into Slif's apprenticeship left him figure out most things on his own.

"So _does_ she have some _dark_ secret?" he asked, returning to the previous subject.

Kili shook his head, but his hesitation had his brother and Della looking at him strangely. He averted his eyes and fingered the muffins and little breads in the basket. They all looked and smelled delicious. He knew that Areen had given Slif more than a few recipes and that she had probably taught him how to cook without him knowing it. A small, admiring smile wound its way around his lips. Then he thought of just the thing to cheer her up. His small smile turned into a wide grin.

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><p>I was ready finally and walked arm in arm with Otha and Kitra down the stairs to the dining hall. Along the way I heard the angry and accusing mumbles of various dwarves as they went by. I felt like I was fading. I had heard that elves did that. When I was young, I thought they did it when their arrogance grew so great that Middle-earth just couldn't put up with them anymore. I imagined them fading away in snatches when their obnoxiousness reached the limit. But now I felt like I was fading away. I tried hard to muster a smile, but it took too much effort. I was able to lift my mouth at the corners, but that was all. Otha and Kitra pulled me aside when we reached the doors and hugged me hard. I dropped my head on their shoulders and held on tightly. Then I turned to the door but I couldn't go in, not yet.<p>

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><p>Thorin was detained by several nobles wanting to go over details of yet another trade agreement, and he stood there impatiently while they droned on. His stomach rumbled in anticipation of another good meal, and he wondered what Slif would do this time. Finally, he told them that he would "think on" their proposal. They understood they were dismissed and left to complain in a hallway beyond his hearing.<p>

As he strode down the corridor, he saw Princess Areen some ways in front of him. He heard the comments of nobles and others as they continued their gossip.

"Did you hear what she did?"

"Like a common kitchen servant."

"Perhaps she borrowed her clothes and wears _rags_ at home."

They didn't trouble to lower their voices, and he knew that she must have heard each and every one. Fresh pain throbbed like his head was being squeezed in a vice, and he rubbed his temple. Then he saw her stop at the door. She wrung her hands, but didn't go in. He stepped into the shadows to watch.

He saw with growing surprise her relationship with her maids. They seemed more like friends than servants, and he almost gasped when he saw them huddle together in support of her. They all hugged like a little family. Then her maids smoothed back a few stray hairs and brushed off her dress. She wore her hair like a queen, and dress was an unusual color. For a moment, it looked like a piece of the sky had floated into Erebor. Her maids patted her gently on the back, and he watched her turn to the door. She put her hand on it and dropped her chin. Her maids murmured encouraging words. Then she lifted her head and drew herself up resolutely. Balling her fists, she seemed to summon all her courage, and her back stiffened with determination. Her grit impressed him, but he had seen enough, and he knew what he had to do.

"My lady," he said gently as he stepped out of the shadows and approached her.

Immediately, she went rigid, and her maids blanched. Then she dipped into a stiff curtsy. He sighed internally, knowing that he was the cause of their distress.

"May I escort you in? It would be my pleasure."

She stood there with her head down, and he wondered if she would refuse him. Such a thing was unthinkable but, for a moment, he thought she'd actually considered it.

"It is my honor," she said softly.

He walked over and bowed before her, making sure that those in the hallways saw what he did. A collective gasp rose from behind him, and two sentries hastened over to open the door. Then he took her hand, placed another careful kiss on it, and tucked it over his arm. His other hand covered hers gently. A lovely gold bracelet with a heart attached jingled on her wrist.

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><p><strong>Okey-doke. Hoped you liked.<strong>


	17. Chapter 17

**Greetings loyal readers and welcome new ones! Thanks for your encouraging words and patience! Your reviews are a joy! I don't have everything down yet, but this fits into what's evolving, so here is the next chapter. A very clever reader agreed to be my beta, so once I figure out how to send chapters, I'll have my best chance to make this story what I want it to be. One change I made: Slif is an apprentice who was only a little into his training when the main cook died, so that explains both his lack of skill and his insecurity. **

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><p><strong>Chapter 17<strong>

King Thorin squeezed my hand as we stepped into the room. His was meaty, rough, and callused, and I felt a few healing cuts on his palm. Or were they scars? I didn't think that a king's hand would be that, well, well-used. Father's wasn't. His fingers were smooth. When he'd grab my arm, I felt no calluses nor any other proof that he did _any_ hard work. That made sense since he didn't. Perhaps King Thorin's hard hands came from weapons training since the war ended four years ago. I took a deep breath and smelled leather, metal, and … fennel. Did he nick some cakes off Slif? Then I felt a slight gust when the doors opened.

"It will not happen again," he reaffirmed quietly before we stepped inside. His low voice rumbled from somewhere deep within. I briefly halted the parade of horrid possibilities that might happen in a few moments to think on his voice. It sounded like it had traveled far. I imagined it wending its way from his innards, up his gullet, and out of his mouth, all the while acquiring layer after layer of richness and meaning. Perhaps his words started forming last night and took this long to leave his mouth. His voice was definitely his best feature. The rest of him couldn't be so impressive.

I nodded, surprised that he'd exert himself beyond the apology. I was still nervous, but his answer made me feel better. Maybe I'd survive the morning after all. Then I remembered the gasps in the hallway. I didn't know what happened out there, but he must have done something shocking. I tucked the moment in the back in my mind to ask Kitra about it later.

He was a puzzle to me now, and I didn't know what to make of him. That big, booming voice from the first day stuck with me, and his presence in the garden made me think he was enormous. A huge, barrel-chested dwarf with wild hair and a beard that looked like shaggy lengths of carded wool maybe. Or perhaps he was bald instead. Yes, bald sounded right with a bushy beard and mustache. His trunk would be long and wide and his legs short and stout in comparison. He had no neck; instead, his head sat directly on high, blocky shoulders.

I imagined that his face was square, rough, and pock-marked with nostrils wide enough to hold chestnuts. I could tell from his voice that he was taller than me by quite a bit. Prince Kili was also taller but only just. Did he have both eyes? An ear could have been bitten off by orcs or his nose by goblins. Whatever he looked like, he was an imposing figure and more than a bit scary.

We walked into the room slowly. Unlike last night, I heard a crash of noise that made King Thorin exhale with mild exasperation and me with confusion. I heard a chorus of voices—new voices—that made such a clatter that I couldn't pick out much of anything.

"Greetings, my … last piece of … lady … that's … bacon … disgusting … so … who's … shove … going … eggs … up … out … his … blooming …."

King Thorin harrumphed, and the room fell silent.

"I'll be happy to seat you, Areen," Kili said with a friendly lilt after he pushed back his chair and came toward me. The others, whomever they were, called out friendly comments and a few suggestive jokes.

"Not this time," his uncle said in a tone that made him step aside.

I didn't hear father or Lord Boron, but I did hear voices that ranged from cheerful to annoyed.

King Thorin introduced them one by one while I smiled but kept my eyes down. The one named Bofur was the most friendly while the one named Gloin was the least. Lord Dwalin—Lord Balin's younger brother, I found out—was gruff as well but with an underlying wry humor that had me picturing him at King Thorin's side making comments while they killed orc after orc. I envisioned him as the handsome captain with long, black and silver hair and wide shoulders. His eyes would be light blue at times but darken to a blue-gray when indoors. His nose was long but thin and hooked ever so slightly to give him a most noble air. He would have a trimmed beard and mustache, and women folk would swoon when he walked beside his ugly king. He was ever so beautiful but with a husky, rough voice that contrasted with his handsome appearance. I almost giggled. The ugly king with the beautiful voice, and the handsome captain with a voice like gravel. It's amazing what one can imagine in the space of a second!

"And Oin, of course," he said.

"Good morning, lass."

I heard the smile and support in his voice, and I couldn't help grinning in return.

"We thought it might be pleasant for you to meet those who helped restore Erebor to our people," King Thorin said with obvious pride. Kili must have suggested it or Prince Fili. I doubted their uncle spent that much time considering my comfort, although he spent _plenty_ of time on the reverse. That was mean of me to think, but I wasn't willing yet to let go of my resentment for his embarrassing me in the first place.

"Aye," the one called Bofur added, "you were going to meet us sooner or later anyway, and we invited ourselves after we heard about last night's feast."

Exactly _what_ did they hear though? I waited for snide comments but heard none. Instead, they called out compliments on the food and thanks for helping Slif. That was very kind of them, and I stopped feeling like a cornered rabbit. They were quite a merry bunch and certainly sounded much more fun than the stern and correct nobles.

"We never turn down a good meal," another one added.

"Or any food at all," joked one in the far corner. "If we can eat it, it goes down!"

_Oh._

Sausages sautéed with stinky rose and onions. Poppy seed muffins flavored with lemon. Other muffins made moist with molasses and raisins. Thin, flaky pastries with sweet cheese in the middle. From the oohs and aahs I heard, I knew that Slif's position was secure. The platters of eggs smelled wonderful. They were mixed with cheese and flavored with minced chives, salt, and pepper. I couldn't wait. I listened again for father and Lord Boron, but they weren't there. Various voices call out their surprise and delight over the breakfast fare and went into great detail about other memorable meals. I pricked up my ears at their descriptions of what they ate at Born's, Bern's, no Be-orn's house. Meanwhile, platters made their way around the table, and utensils scraped off the amounts wanted. I already had two muffins on my plate.

"Remember the animals serving us?" one of them called out. Ori I think it was.

"What?" I asked. Did I hear that right? "Animals _served_ you?"

Were they pulling carts? What a strange person this Be-orn must be!

"Oh, aye," Bofur replied. "I suppose it was only right since their master turned into a huge bear from time to time."

_What?_

I was so surprised that I didn't pay attention to what I was doing. The eggs had come my way, and I fumbled for the spoon and scooped them up without thinking. Sheep and dogs _serving food. _That couldn't be! I turned the spoon over, and Bofur stopped in mid-sentence. Then Prince Fili started laughing.

"Is that another recipe from the Grey Mountains, my lady?"

I dropped the spoon, and it clinked on glass. Oh, Mahal, what happened! I swallowed hard. What had I done?

"Well, Kili, now you can eat and drink at the same time!" Fili hooted.

I covered my nose and mouth with my hands. I had dumped eggs into his goblet. He must have put it down close to me while he was talking with the others. Then I heard Oin's voice from down the table.

"The next time you tell that story, Bofur," he said, "make sure that no one has food in their hands or mouth."

While everyone laughed, Kili leaned over and told me not to fret.

"This isn't the first time I've had food in my drink, but at least it's by accident this time."

Then he graciously spooned eggs on my plate. I was grateful. Lord Boron wasn't there to fix one up for me, but I refused to miss his company. However, without help, I was sure to make more mistakes since things were arranged differently here. I already saved myself from embarrassment at the last second when I was about to cut my muffin in half with a spoon. The Durins used different plate-wear for each meal, and I hadn't yet memorized the different handles of the various forks, spoons, and knives. I kept fingering them to distinguish their patterns. I wouldn't make that mistake again! Then servers came in with more sausages and bacon.

"Please serve Princess Areen," Oin called out. "We want to make sure her food reaches her plate."

May Mahal bless Oin with long life and anything else he wanted! I didn't care that everyone laughed at me. A full plate more than made up for it. I just had one question, and I waited until the clink of forks on plates had slowed.

"My lord," I said, looking over in the general direction of where King Thorin was sitting, "where are my father and Lord Boron?"

There was a slight pause before he cleared his throat.

"They're with Balin, my lady," he said. "They needed to go over trade details."

So, if I understood him correctly, father was still livid, and Lord Balin was sent to calm him down. Again, I was taken aback by King Thorin's efforts on my behalf. Mother said he was a dwarf of honor, and I had to agree—reluctantly. I decided then to ask for help and tell them everything. I prepared what I wanted to say, but before I could little Prince Frerin squirmed off his mother's lap and came toddling around the table.

"You must forgive his fascination with you, my lady," Della said with an amused huff. "As you can see, there aren't too many of our women folk here, and he's quite the flirt—like his father."

"Hey!"

I didn't mind. I love children. They're uncomplicated and say whatever they think. I always found them refreshing, and he was such a dear. I felt a tug on my skirts.

"Pincess Reen," he said eagerly.

"Good morning, Prince Frerin," I said with exaggerated formality. Then I looked down.

"Mm over here."

Mahal! What now? By the time I looked down, he had moved. I expected any second now that someone, anyone, would notice my struggles, but then again, they could think it part of a game.

"Over here! Over here!" he shouted, but he kept running back and forth. I put my hands over my eyes.

"Where are you?" I asked coyly. No one seemed to think anything of it.

"Here! Here!" he shouted.

I looked around. I was sure that my eyes passed him by, but I didn't make anything of it.

"I can't see you, Frerin. Where are you?"

I felt little hands tugging at my skirts. I allowed myself a small sigh of relief. Most of the others had lost interest in us and started talking about other matters.

"Here I yam!"

I opened my arms and helped him climb on my lap. Then he shoved something in my hands. It was a doll.

"Who is it, Pincess Reen?"

Would this breakfast _ever_ end? I felt like I was stumbling through an obstacle course, one like father set up with the furniture at home.

"My, what a handsome dwarf!"

At least I could tell _that_ much. It wasn't wearing a skirt or dress. I pretended not to know at first and felt my way around the doll. It couldn't be Kili since it had a beard and a braided mustache. It could be Prince Fili, of course, but it could also be King Thorin, although it didn't fit my picture of him at all. Then again, it could be someone else entirely.

"Hmm, whomever could he be?"

I gambled on the impatience of youth, and it didn't disappoint. Frerin was bouncing on my lap so hard by then that I knew he couldn't wait any longer.

"It's daddy! It's daddy!" he shouted.

"Of course it is," I replied feeling very relieved. He hugged the doll, and I hugged him. He really was very sweet. I never thought I'd have children of my own, but when I hugged him I felt warm and, and happy. I didn't want to let him go.

"Come back now, Frerin," Prince Fili said, "and leave Princess Areen be."

I gave him one last squeeze and helped him down.

"Oh, he's no trouble, my lord," I replied. I heard some noises, but I couldn't tell what they were. I decided that eating was the best option.

"Fili, please," he said. "We don't stand on ceremony here. Well, at least _most_ of us don't."

"Areen then."

"Just Areen," Kili added with a sly chuckle. I bumped him in his seat, and he bumped me back.

I heard King Thorin huff a bit at Fili's gentle jest, but the others laughed and called out jokes. Yes, these dwarves were _very_ different than the ones I met yesterday. They seemed, ah, _easier_ with each other, as only those who'd gone through trying times together could be. Even King Thorin seemed more relaxed with them, if he could ever be called relaxed.

"Your Majesty?"

The room stilled.

"Areen," he acknowledged slowly like he was testing my name on his tongue. He said it differently without the title.

But before I could say anything, the door opened, and someone came into the room with a hurried apology.

"My lord," he said, "these just arrived this morning, and I was told to bring them to you without delay."

King Thorin rumbled his thanks, and no one spoke. I heard parchment crinkling slightly. He must be reading something. When he was done he hummed heavily.

"One report is from King Thranduil," he said with a twist of distaste. I suppressed my image of him wading through muck to his writing desk. "He informs us that bands of orcs have been sighted outside Esgaroth and that the elves have engaged them."

Their reactions timed so exactly it was like the room itself inhaled and exhaled.

"What do we do, Thorin?" Lord Dwalin asked. Could I call him just Dwalin if the opportunity arose? I still wasn't sure. I leaned forward to hear what the handsome captain with the luxurious hair had to say. "Have they been seen between Lake Town and Dale?"

"Thranduil says that some escaped, but whether back to the woods or around the lake to Dale, he doesn't know," the king replied.

"What's the other message, uncle?" Kili asked.

King Thorin sighed. I was quite sure that despite what Fili said, the king would never, ever allow me to call him Thorin. I probably wouldn't even if he did.

"There are reports of a dangerous fever spreading along trade routes," he said with even more seriousness if that was possible. I felt a lurch in my gut. I knew too well what that could mean. "So far, it hasn't reached this region, but we need to take measures now to protest ourselves. Dale is stocking up in preparation to halt all trade until the danger has passed, and we should do the same."

The dwarves all mumbled and hummed their agreement.

"Areen," he said again. Despite the fact that I didn't much care for him, I could listen to him talk all day. Just the way he said my name made shivers dance along my spine.

I felt the urge to jerk my head up and peer around. That's how Oin caught me, so I lifted my head slowly. That didn't mean that my fists weren't bunched in my skirts though. Mahal, he could frighten the bark off a tree.

"Do the Grey Mountains have medicinal herbs to fight such things?" he asked.

I swallowed noisily and bobbed my head respectfully.

"Aye, my lord, we do," I answered, "that is, if the illness is caught in its early stages, but no herb or medicine can cure everyone of everything."

The king mumbled his agreement, and Bofur said, "True enough."

"We shouldn't wait then," he said decisively. "We need to prepare now and have what we need on hand. I will speak to your father, but whom would you recommend to prepare and bring such a shipment?"

I had no hesitation, and I'm sure all saw my excitement. Feron would come sooner than planned! I felt the bliss of relief flowing through my constricted veins, filling me with the warmth of early escape.

"Lord Vinn, my lord," I said with confidence, the only confidence I felt since yesterday. "He oversees our medicinal stocks and is completely trustworthy."

The king hummed again.

"Very well," he said. "I will speak to your father and, if he's agreed, I will send for your Lord Vinn."

Doubt snuck into my head to join the rest of my fears waiting on a bench. Just because I recommended Lord Vinn was enough reason for father to reject him, but, then again, he had little choice. Lord Vinn _was_ in charge of our medicinal herbs, and no one would know better what to bring and how to transport it safely.

I had the king's attention now, and I couldn't lose it to business and other matters, so I took a deep breath and released it through my pursed lips. It was time, and I pressed my knees together to keep from shaking.

"I wondered if I might ask a favor, my lord," I said. I sat up straight and plunged in. "My pony and dog are presently in the common area of the stables, and I request that they be moved to a more secure location."

I heard some mumbling in the room at what must have seemed like an odd request.

"May I ask why?" King Thorin replied with a hint of offense. "Do you have reason to believe they aren't _well-treated?_"

I felt my face turning red. What _was_ it about him that always set me on edge?

"Oh, not at all, my lord, but …."

_But_ the doors opened again, and father, Lord Boron, and Lord Balin entered. I almost cried. I was close, so _close!_ I thought about telling them everything, in front of father, but I didn't have the courage. He would come up with some reason to discredit me. He did that _so_ well from long practice. I dropped my head. It would wait for another time, but I _would_ tell them and soon.

"Areen?" King Thorin prodded.

"It's nothing, my lord," I said while trying to smile. "I thank you for a wonderful breakfast."

Lord Boron came over, of course, but his didn't take my hand this time. Instead, he stood behind me and put his hand on my shoulder. He blathered on about his gratitude for Lord Balin's willingness to put things to rest, but I caught something new in his tone. There was heat there now, heat, and a hint of … possessiveness? I leaned slightly away from his hand, but he didn't move it. Then I leaned forward slightly. No luck. Finally, I reached behind my head to pull my long braid over my shoulder. He had to move his hand then. Perhaps he wanted to appear supportive in front of the Durins, but I felt like he was hiding a part of himself that would eventually surface. I made a pact with myself not to be around when it did. Then he kissed my hand again, and I felt the tiniest rake of his teeth against my skin. I smiled uncomfortably in return, refusing to think on what had happened. All my choices were ghastly. Then I remembered the mysterious red dress and satin nightgowns, and a horrible suspicion tugged on my thoughts. I quickly rubbed my hand and wrist on my skirt. I think only Kili saw me wipe off his kiss under the table because I heard a disgusted snort to my right.

"I'm so sorry to have missed _this_ feast, my lords," he said jovially, "but I thank you for the opportunity to set things right between our peoples. I'd hate to think that Princess Areen's generous heart would be misunderstood."

"Indeed," King Thorin said dryly.

Then Fili asked what Kili had planned for me today.

"I thought we'd do something she's been wanting to do for some time," he said, "something she hasn't been able to do since she was little."

Oh, Mahal, he wants to take me shooting! He'd know soon enough; he couldn't _help_ but know! I prayed he'd handle it well.

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><p><strong>Kili <em>will<em> find out in the next chapter. Please review and thanks for sticking with the story! **


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